


The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crime Scenes, Detective Mickey Milkovich, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Gay Character, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Murder-Suicide, Murderers, Plot Twists, Sexual Abuse, Soulmates, Spirits, Suicidal Thoughts, Talking To Dead People, Tragic Romance, Victim Ian Gallagher, Yev is 16
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 223,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Detective Mickey Milkovich works with his partner Nick Amara at the Chicago PD; Sex Crimes. He works gruesome cases, chases bad guys and gives the victims justice...peace.After over 48 hours of no sleep, closing a case, Mickey gets a call, a new crime scene. The victim is 22 year old Ian Gallagher, who has the greenest eyes and the wildest red hair he'd ever seen.Can he get justice for Ian without getting pulled in? Without the case swallowing him up? Will the beauty of Ian Gallagher be enough to stop the horrors invading his mind....





	1. Peach's

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Welcome to my new WIP. This is so different than anything I've ever done and I hope you enjoy the crazy ride. There are twists and turns and tears and love, some personal growth for our boys as well.
> 
> So please, try to enjoy this very different reality...you just might like it. If not...please be kind.

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 1 – Peach's

The bell on the door dinged a little too loudly for 7:30 in the morning. It had an annoying little jingle as Mickey opened the door and let it lightly swing closed, giving another little jingle as he shrugged off his jacket. The hood piled high with melting snow hazardously fell onto the dirty off white tile, preparing to assault the next person to enter.

Peach's Diner on 47th was nearly deserted so early in the morning. Smack dab in the middle of South Side Chicago, it surprisingly didn’t get many early risers. The place seemed to like the lunch and dinner crowds much better, leaving him and 2 other people to enjoy the dreary, gloomy morning breakfast.

Mickey hung up his jacket on the small rack by the door and moved to his normal table all the way in the back, a corner table, with one wall to his back and one clear window to his right, facing the front door. More out of habit than anything else.

With a curt nod from Lucy, his regular waitress when he came in during opening, he took his seat and put his face into hands, elbows digging into the table. It may have been early for everyone else, but it was late for him. He had yet to go home and crawl into bed, it had been that way for three days. One more was surely going to kill him.

The smell of strong coffee burst into his nose and he peeled back his hands to see Lucy putting a large cup of fresh, black coffee in front of him. No milk, no sugar. At least not for mornings like these and she knew that. They had an understanding. Black coffee early in the morning, then sugar with a side of coffee in the afternoons.

“Late night detective?” Lucy asked with concern, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in the way they always did.

Mickey offers a tired smile as he nods and brings the scorching hot ceramic cup into his cold hands. The pain from freezing to hot is minimal but it does wonders to warm him, giving him some resemblance of life among the living. Lately, he hadn’t seen much of that.

“Late nights that trickle into mornings,” he shook his head, feeling the heavy weight of sleep on his eyes, “it’s a never ending cycle.”

Lucy was a nice lady. Worked at Peach's for as long as he could remember. Her dark brown hair had streaks of gray twisted into it, giving her a defined look. She looked good for pushing 60. No white hair and liver spotted skin, not many wrinkles either. The only one she graced herself with were the worry wrinkles or the happy ones and he knew she was still as pretty as when she was 20. 

“You better tell that Captain of yours that he needs to give you a break.” She shook her head in mild annoyance. “Runnin you ragged like that can’t be good for you.”

Mickey shrugged as he took that first soul snatching drink, letting the warmth flood into his cold body. It would work until he was out, or the cup went cold and that wet, coldness would seep back into his bones, digging a hole in his body just to torment him. 

“Doesn’t work like that Miss Lucy. Chicago; the city that never sleeps.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“That’s New York detective, we go through this every morning you warm that bench seat with your ass.” 

Mickey cracked his first real smile in over 48 hours. She was right of course. About New York and about him not catching a break, like ever. Crime in Chicago did not give a shit if you were tired or sick or even dying. It pushed past you, most of the time with a hefty punch to the gut for good measure. It was not kind, so he wasn’t either. Lord knows his Captain wasn’t.

Captain Raleigh Fuller, the meanest nice guy you’d ever meet. He was as mean as a snake when he needed to be, which was usually all the time. Captain of Chicago’s Sex Crime Unit, his unit. His boss. Fuller was stern, stubborn, and sometimes just down right bitchy, but to his people he was a little soft around the edges. Just a little. 

When Lucy just stared at him with that disapproving look, Mickey pulled out his cell phone and wiggled it at her. “Go ahead and tell him then Luce. I can guarantee that he’ll yell like a 5 year old girl, bench me and make my life harder than it already is. But, go ahead.”

Lucy grabbed the phone and Mickey could tell she was really considering it. More than willing to take the yelling as long as Fuller was aware of how tired he was. The thought and gesture warmed his heart just a little. Chipping some of that Chicago ice away and temporarily warming him.

Ultimately, she handed it back with a scowl. “Fine. Let him run your pasty ass into the ground. But don’t come runnin to Miss Lucy when you get shot because you’re too tired to function.”

Mickey watched her stomp away and he knew she was right. Even now, with his gun strapped on his right hip, if someone where to bust in here waving a gun or muttering threats, his hand-eye coordination would be delayed from lack of sleep. Now, imagine walking the streets of Chicago and being too tired to protect yourself or others. Miss Lucy was not wrong.

Snow lightly fell outside the window as Mickey nursed his coffee. It was doing it’s job, perking him up enough to function until he was able to sleep and chasing that last bit of ice from his body. The need to sleep was still there and if he didn’t hear anything back from his Captain within the next half hour, he was headed home for awhile.

“House Special; scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and a side of hash browns.” Lucy set the plate down on the table, reciting from memory. 

Mickey’s stomach grumbled loudly, and he nodded his thank you as she walked away. He didn’t even know if it tasted good, or if it was burning hot sliding down as he shoveled it back. He was just as hungry as he was tired and at quiet times like these, it showed and for a moment it made him realize that he doesn’t take care of himself as much as he should. 

The moment he swallowed his last bite, chasing it with cold coffee, his cell phone gave a shrill sounding ring that made every bone in his body ache. That ring could only mean that he wasn’t set to go home after this like he planned. With a glare from Lucy, Mickey reached into his pocket for his phone.

The name made him cringe as he answered. “Milkovich.”

“Hey, Mickey, I need you to head up to Canaryville. We got a body.”

Mickey groaned at the sound of his partners voice. It sounded just as rough as his own did, lack of sleep, too much caffeine and not enough smokes. 

“We are off the clock Amara, I was just heading to bed.” He bitched as he stood and took a few bills out of his wallet to set in the middle of the table. “We have been on that same fucking clock for over 48 hours.” He turned to wave at Lucy, who was still scowling but held up a hefty to-go cup of hot coffee for him.

“Stay safe detective.” Lucy warned, no room for discussion.

Mickey winked at her, his version of ‘thanks', shrugged on his wet wool coat and stepped back into the icy weather. “48 hours Nick, I can hardly function.”

“And you think I’m ready to skip my brown ass down to Canaryville and get balls deep into that mess?”

Mickey snorted as he lit a cigarette and walked down the mushy street to his inconspicuous but very standard issue unmarked car. He droned out the snappy comments being barked into his ear and leaned against the front of his car, Canaryville was less than 10 minutes up the road from him.

His partner, Nick Amara wasn’t wrong. In Canaryville, you had to be real careful about certain things. Number one, don’t admit you’re a fag, major beat downs were guaranteed. Number two, it was mostly populated by lower class white people. Amara was darker than your average white guy but lighter than your average Mexican. Amara would just say Cuban, but most people assumed Mexican. 

A Cuban walking around his old neighborhood didn’t warrant additional attention but it would be received badly. Amara could hold his own, all day every day and against bigger cats then the fag bashers in Canaryville. But why add to the situation? 

“Can’t Fuller get Roberts and Benson to handle it?” Mickey asked, irritated as well. 

“I already tried Mick. They are neck keep in that child molestation ring. We gotta get down there ASAP.”

Mickey stomped out his smoke before getting into his cold car to crank the heat as it warmed up. As much as Amara didn’t want to head there, he was just as apprehensive. He left that shit hole for a reason and was not in a hurry to go back any time soon. Too many bad memories. Too much bad blood.

“Fuck, fine. How long til you get there?” 

“I’m in the North Side man, gonna take me a bit to get there. How far are you again? ‘Bout 10, 15 maybe?”

When the car warmed up, Mickey pulled into the flow of morning traffic, set for his least favorite location. “Yeah, about that. Gimme the address and hurry the fuck up. I ain’t doin the heavy liftin shit again.”

“Hey, fuck you! I carry your ass most of the damn way.”

Mickey scuffed but couldn’t shake his smile. Partners had that effect sometimes. You either wanted to hug them or hit them, no in between. “You just get there and keep away from my ass Nicky. I told you, you ain’t my fuckin type.”

Amara snorted as he laughed. “You keep tellin yourself that maravilloso, but I know you want me. Only a matter of time.”

Some things never changed. Especially his partner. At a young age of 25, a rookie compared to him, Amara had been givin him shit since day one. Being a gay cop from the South Side was a lot to get saddled with when searching for a partner. Either it was the intimidation of his back ground, which was less then spotless, or being a fag, he went through an alarming about of people. Until Nick Amara. That guy didn’t give two fucks where he grew up or where he planted his dick, just as long as he didn’t get him shot. 

The guy was a fuckin Saint. Mickey called him Saint Amara just to get his blood goin and then he’d spout off in Spanish until he was blue in the face. They hit it off instantly and the rest was history.

“Oh, don’t start with all that flattery man, you know that shit won’t work with me. Takes more than a few pretty words to get in my pants.” He looked out the window and could see the flashing blue and white lights from the cop cars. 

“Oh, I know. But I’m determined to find out what does. Then, get your grumpy ass a nice boy to go home to, dick you the right way so you’ll stop bein an asshole.”

Mickey parked the car along the now crowded street, behind a row of police cars and turned off the engine. “Maybe one day buddy. Look, I just got here and it’s a shit show and I ain’t even stepped out of the car yet. Just hurry up, yeah?”

“Sure thing Mick, see you soon.”

The call ended and he took a moment to compose himself. Letting the friendly banter dissipate, to put up those brick walls in his mind, ready to block out whatever bad shit was on its way. Judging from the amount of cops, the large yellow police tape lined perimeter and the number of gawkers behind that line, it was bad. Of course it was. Bad and awful kept him in business.

“Time to roll Milkovich.” He mumbled against his thumb that always seemed to fuck with the corner of his mouth. Nervousness. Dread. He opened the door and headed towards the crowd. Making sure to keep his hand over his gun as he walked, making sure it stayed put as he weaved in and out of the crowd. That yellow tape appeared, and he flashed his badge and ducked under.

Despite the crowd, the street was rather quiet. Early November had the quiet, trashy street covered in a fine layer of mush. Not even snow any more. The gunk in the streets, the trash that rolled down the black top like a tumbleweed ruined any chance of that White Christmas look. The houses around this area were old, run down, rotting, decaying messes. Barely being held up by their foundations but too stubborn to fall. Trash and broken down cars were frequent, most of them on blocks. The loud rumble of the L was deafening, but all too familiar. If close enough, it shook the ground around them. 

The residence of Canaryville were either too poor or too lazy to fix up their places, leaving them in shambles, making the entire place seem more dangerous than it really was. It almost felt like home. Almost. The added cop cars fit right in, the unnecessary ambulance and totally necessary Coroner’s van that always gave him the chills. 

No more stalling. It was a skill of his. Trying to take in as much of the scene around him until he could no longer ignore the main event. Mickey trudged his way back to the first officer he saw and recognized him. “Hey Sonny,” Mickey offered his hand which was taken in a gloved one immediately. “Family doin good?”

“Real good Milkovich, thanks for askin. Where’s your better half?”

Mickey snorted. “Late, as per usual. So, whatcha got for me?” he asked but kept his eyes off the body laying 10 feet to his left. He wanted the information first before seeing anything. Gave him more time to process.

“Male, late teens, early 20's even. Was found around an hour ago but the M.E. said he’s been here longer than that. Body is frozen solid, not too surprising since it’s about 15 degrees out here.”

“And no one saw a kid just layin here in the buff?” He shook his head. Not bloody likely. “Got a cause of death for me?”

“Appears to be a single GSW to the right temple, fairly close range, possibly even self inflicted. We found a 38 Special next to him. Wound seems to match the cartridge.”

“Anyone hear the shot?” Mickey asked as he thumbed at his mouth. Soon it would be time to look. He’d have to see something that would stick with him until it was solved, maybe even after that. Months even. 

“One wasn’t reported, but you know the neighborhood. Guns go off like crazy around here.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth. Not helpful in the slightest. “Anyone move him?” Sonny gave him an evil look and Mickey held his hands up. “I gotta ask man. I know you know your shit, but it’s my shit now and I have no room for mistakes.”

“No Milkovich, the M.E. does her thing and we secure the scene.” He rolled his eyes. “If anything is out of place, ask her.”

Mickey nodded, took a deep breath and finally approached the body. More often than not, he was used to live victims. Sex related crimes. But sometimes those crimes ended like this and he, they were called in. “How ‘bout an ID?” he kept his eyes focused on the tree past the body, unwilling to look just yet. 

“No ID, no wallet. No nothin. Kid is barely covered. But we did find a cell phone on him. Nothing high end but it does require a password to access it.”

Without any other immediate questions, he lifted the sheet that covered the body. The first thing he noticed was the bright red tuff of hair. Shockingly bright in the gloomy weather. Like a beacon of all things good and sweet. Shaved on the sides, longer up top so bangs dangled on the victims forehead. 

The victim was laying face down on the side of the street, his body halfway over the sidewalk with one pale foot obscured by the gutter. He was nearly naked, wearing only a small, tight pair of golden spandex shorts, short enough to cover his ass but just barely, they hung crooked at one side. The rest of his body was very visible. His skin had taken on that bluish color from being exposed to freezing temperatures for a long amount of him. 

One arm curled at an odd angle above his head, the other looking like he had been reaching out to grab something. The gun maybe, or the phone but neither were there. Locked away in evidence bags. The kid looked young, like a kid. 16, 17 maybe. His face was void of any damaged despite the GSW to the head. 

Mickey studied the long cut of his jaw, seeing the barely there stubble that stopped growing as soon as the kids heart stopped. Lips blue and parted, eyes closed. He looked almost…peaceful. Almost. And he was shockingly beautiful. Instead of checking for any defensive signs, Mickey stared at his face. He couldn’t help it and he did try. But it was like a car crash, awful yet wondrous and impossible to look away.

“Signs of sexual assault I assume?” Mickey finally said as he tore his eyes up to look at Sonny. 

“The M.E. will need to take him back to find out for sure, but she did mention the wounds on his thighs, bruising. And his shorts were on crooked so she’s thinking yes.”

Mickey flinched. He worked Sex Crimes, not homicide. Sexual assault was always a variable on the job, or it wasn’t his. That being said, it was still hard to hear. Hard to imagine someone sexually abusing a teenager. It was hard to stomach the details, harder to see the pictures, especially when you’re forced to dig into their lives, to see who they were. 

“Anything else?” Mickey asked as he stood up and took a few steps back as the sheet was put back into place, shielding a face that would haunt him for awhile. 

“Sorry I’m late!!”

Mickey looked over to see Amara pushing through the crowd, waving his badge in the air. Even though he was coming from the North Side, it looked like he just crawled out of bed. Tie crooked, his shirt untucked and unevenly buttoned, dark hair a mess like a hand ran through it one too many times…and not his own.

Anger flared up the instant Amara was next to him, the asshole smiling. Mickey grabbed him by the tie and yanked him down to his level. “The fuck Nick? I’m rushin down here, after 48 hours of no sleep and you’re late because you’re getting your dick wet?” he shoved him back hard, nearly knocking him into Sonny.

Amara had the audacity to blush and attempt to straighten his clothes. And Mickey wanted to punch him out and go home and drink til he passed out.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin about man. I told you where I was.” Nick scuffed and glared as Sonny quirked an eye at him.

“North Side my ass. Takes longer than 15 minutes to get back here but yet here you are.” Amara turned to look down at the body and Mickey saw a deep red mark on his neck. “Your wife know you got a side piece?”

Amara cursed, hands on his hips. “No, and neither do you.”

Mickey scuffed. Surprised more than mad. Nick was happily married to his wife Nina. Had been for 3 years and had twin girls. He had a family and he was fuckin around? The asshole didn’t know a good thing when he saw one.

“Fuck you Nicky.” Mickey spat, happy they weren’t sharing the same car or one of them would be in the hospital. “Guess being happy with your wife and kids was too much for you huh? A little too boring, needed to mix it up a little.”

When Amara didn’t look at him, he knew he hit the nail right on the head. That bastard. Mickey envied what Nick had. Not the wife part but the kids, the nice 3 bedroom house, two cars, ya know…sturdy, happy. Family. It was the only Mickey wanted and Nick was pissing it all away for some strange pussy. It changed his view towards his partner, and he didn’t like it.

Amara sighed heavily and paced around a little. “Nothing is as it seems Mick. I know I have what you assume is the ‘perfect’ life, but you don’t have to do it everyday.”

Mickey didn’t understand. Maybe because he didn’t have to live Nick's life. Of course, what he didn’t understand the most was straying when you had what he did. Someone who loved you. Without replying, he started to pace around the opposite side of the sidewalk while Nick got caught up. Asshole. He managed to take a bad day and make it worse.

He couldn’t do this shit right now. Talking about family when they were standing next to the body of someone’s family. It wasn’t fair to him because Nick had that perfect life, it wasn’t far to Nina because she was a good wide, a good mother and it wasn’t fair to their victim. He deserved their attention right now. All of their attention and if he had to look at that fucking hickey all day, he’d get nothing done.

When Sonny spoke to Nick, he wandered to the M.E. determined to get even more information before he was set to go back to the station. She was carefully bagging evidence and handing it to the crime scene techs that scurried all around them. He approached and she looked up with a smile.

“Hey Mags, got anything for me?” he rubbed his lip, fuck, he wanted a smoke. Stupid cold, stupid case, stupid Nick. 

“Good morning to you too Milkovich. I’m fine, thanks for asking.” She chuckled, as sarcastic as she could be.

“Sorry, been up for close to 50 hours and my partner is a dumb ass.” He shook his head when Nick looked a little hurt at that comment. “Anything I should know before you cart him away?”

“I’ll know more once he’s on my table, but I have a few things for you.” She tossed her gloves in a nearby bag and flipped through her clipboard. “We have the GSW to the head. We have the bullet but no blood pool which makes me think he was killed somewhere else and dumped or he was dead before the shot and it’s to cover up the real cause of death.”

He had noticed the absence of blood, both on the ground under the victims face and around the wound its self. Probably spatter patterns as well but there was nothing. No blood at all.

“Also, I noted his shorts are crooked. Either from stumbling around or someone redressed him after.”

“Sexual assault, right?” 

“It’s hard to say really. The kid is nearly frozen, which I’m not sure if he was put on ice and dumped or if he just froze from being exposed to the elements for too long.”

“I hate to say this Mags, but unless there is evidence of a sexual assault, I might have to hand it over to homicide.” 

She didn’t look too please, and he didn’t either. He was involved now. He had the image of that beautiful face burned into his mind, red hair that looked like the brightest sunset. He’d be damned if he had to hand off the case.

“I’m going to say yes. He had finger shaped bruises on his thighs, like they were forced open and he could have been redressed after so it’s very possible.”

Mickey nodded and released a deep breath. “So, no ID for this kid, no witnesses to speak of. Somehow there is no blood, or evidence around this joint and he may or may not have been assaulted?” She nodded with a sympathetic smile. “Fabulous. Just another walk in the park.”

“I’ll have more for you once I get him back.” She grabbed a body bag out of the back of her van. “You two done with him?”

He nodded, not giving a shit if Amara was done or not. Bastard shouldn’t have been late. Now Mickey got to go home and change before getting back to the precinct and Amara had to play catch up. Serves him right. “Done for now. But I’ll be stalking your office for details.”

“Good, or I’d be disappointed.” Maggie winked.

Mickey gave the only smile he could as he walked back over to Sonny. Amara was off to the side, talking into his phone with hushed tones, glancing from side to side like he didn’t want anyone to hear him. He shook his head, probably his side piece. At work…classy to the end. As he moved closer, Amara waved him over and Mickey approached with a scowl on his face.

“What?” He barked and turned away from Amara to see Mags and her assistant try to bag up their victim. Being frozen in an odd position, it was making it difficult and it hurt to watch but it hurt to look away, afraid he would miss something vital. 

“Salty bitch.” Amara shook his head, his phone pressed to his chest. “Yev is on the phone.”

That got his attention. He turned away and faced Amara, eyebrows high up on his head. Apparently, his previous assessment of him talking to his lover had been wrong. 

“Why the hell is my kid callin you?” he barked again, just in an all-out pissy mood. 

“He said he called you three times, but you didn’t answer.” Amara held the phone out and wiggled it.

Mickey snatched it with a scowl and saw a brief look of worry and guilt cross Amara's face. Was he worried about him having his phone? See? That’s why you don’t cheat, you get paranoid as suspicious. He quickly dug into his pocket and sure enough, he had 3 missed calls from Yevgeny. But his phone was on silent.

“Hey bud, sorry bout that. Phone was turned down.”

“Figures.” Yev scuffed. “You don’t come home, and I call, and you don’t answer, what could possibly go wrong?”

Mickey didn’t like the attitude, but he understood it. He worked a lot, too much. Not home for days at a time, and when he is home, he’s engrossed in his work, fucked up work. Yev jumped between his apartment and his moms new husbands house, and it pissed him off how much time was wasted.

“Shit, sorry. Been fuckin busy with that last case and asshole Amara calls with another one before I get home.” He flipped Nick off. Yev gave a little laugh but it sounded odd. “You okay?”

“Fuckin fine dad. Just makin sure you weren’t dead.” 

It sounded like he was talking to him self. At 16, Yev’s voice took a turn and it was as deep and mean sounding as his, despite his bleach blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Everywhere they went, he knew people wondered what kind of man he would be. Mickey knew, but Yev didn’t. Even Svetlana knew and he hated her.

“Yeah, I’m good. Headed home now to change but then I gotta get back to the precinct.” 

“Okay, I just wanted to call and check before I leave. Shit, I’m late anyways, might as well make sure you’re alive before I go.”

Mickey scuffed into the phone. This was soooo his kid. “Thanks smartass. Get that ass to school and next time, don’t call Amara, yeah? It’s fuckin weird.”

“You didn’t answer! And how is it weird? Dudes cool and been your partner for like 2 years. That shit is normal.”

Couldn’t fault that logic, all except Amara being cool. “He is not cool Yev, he’s a prick.” He scuffed when Amara knocked against his shoulder. “Just get to class and I’ll try and be home later.”

Yev scuffed. “Heard that before. Just be careful and turn your cell on. Now, lemme talk to Nick real quick.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes and handed the phone over to a scowling Amara. Since when had Yev started calling him Nick? HE barely called him that. It was usually just Amara. But he didn’t question it too much, the kid liked his partner, most of the time and that was good enough for him.

“Yeah kid, I’ll make sure he turns his damn phone on.” Amara chuckled into the phone and Mickey glared. “Yup, I’ll keep him safe too. Just get to school before he has an aneurism.”

Mickey turned away, hating how his son was askin his partner to make him do anything. Not fucking likely. By the time he turned back, Mags had gotten the body toted away into her van and was no where in sight. He needed to shag ass home to change, shower if he had time and get the rest of that info.

“Sure thing kid, yup. Me too. Later man.” 

Amara hung the phone up. “Turn your shit on. Kid didn’t hang up til I promised to make you.”

Mickey flipped him off as he lit a much needed cigarette and reached for his phone to turn it all the way up. It wasn’t fair, both ganging up on him like he wasn’t an adult. He knew how to handle himself. “Fuck you. I’m headed home.”

“I’m gonna stay in case they found something.”

Mickey nodded, already halfway to his car. He had about an hour to take care of some shit before Mags would have an update for him and he didn’t want to miss it. “See you in an hour. Don’t be late bitch.”

**

Not even an hour later, Mickey was showered, changed and back at the precinct ready for action. The shower helped wake him up, along with 2 Redbulls and a handful of caffeine pills. When he crashed, it would be hard. But for now, duty called, and he was eager for some answers. 

Amara was situated at his desk, the archaic looking desk phone pressed against his ear as be eagerly scribbled down information, hopefully some that would move this along. Without a word or a second glance, he took the elevator down to see Mags. She would have what he needed. 

The second the elevator door opened right in view of the glass walls that lead into the morgue, Mickey caught that flash of red hair from under yet another white sheet. The doors closed behind him as he stared for a minute to get those walls back in place. For some reason, this case was going to be like pulling teeth for him. Brutal and unforgiving.

Mags was nowhere to be seen as he finally moved into the cold room. It always gave him the chills and not for the reason you think. The cold didn’t bother him. Everything else did. The body laying on the table did. Even the lights that occasionally flickered up above or the humming buzz of a machine spinning evidence around. 

Answers. Just focus on answers and don’t get attached. He didn’t have to utter that mantra often, but certain cases really got to him. This kid was getting to him and he had no fucking clue why. Up until an hour or so ago, he didn’t even know of this kids existence. Now he was on edge, eager to learn more. Too eager maybe. So eager that sleep deprivation wasn’t hitting him as hard as it normally would.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Mickey jumped about a foot in the air at the totally surprising sound behind him. Mags sauntered by, a knowing smile on her face. She did enjoy scaring the piss out of him whenever she could. That morbid little asshole. Friend or not, it was kinda fucked up.

“Jesus Mags! You scared the fuck outta me.” He grouched, pushing past the table to take her seat at the cluttered desk. “You know I hate it down here.”

“Yes, I do know.” She smiled as she easily put on a pair of latex gloves. “But you make it so easy. You act like this place is hell.”

“It is! You’ve seen more dead people than the damn Grim Reaper and still you try and scare me. The lights always flicker like you got a demon stuffed in the closet.”

“Well, tell maintenance to fix my shit up and maybe it won’t be so dark down here.”

Mickey mimicked her bitch fest but smiled as he did it. She was too much, that was for sure. “Okay, so…tell me Mags. I wanna get this cleared ASAP.”

“Well, I ran his teeth and his prints, both in the system.” She handed him a medium sized manila folder.

Mickey took a breath as he opened it to see the red head looking into his eyes. He was more beautiful this way, alive. Bright green eyes with life still in them, red hair wild, his lips pulled up into a friendly smirk at whomever took the picture. Full of life, of hope and happiness. Staring up at him like he was real, alive and happy and Mickey wondered what his laugh would sound like.

“His name is Ian Clayton Gallagher, 22 years old. The son of Frank and Monica Gallagher. I’m sure you may have heard of them.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. Hurricane Monica was somewhat of an off and on topic over the years. Crazy bitch. And her drunk of a husband Frank. He remembered hearing about them on and off through his earlier years, before he got a distance away from Canaryville. Too much crazy to stick around, especially after Yev was born.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them before.” He mumbled as he kept looking at the picture. It didn’t hit him that he’d been tracing his finger along the edge of the picture until it nicked his finger.

“Yeah, I think everyone has. Crazy mom, drunk dad, house full of delinquent children to grow up alone. Yadda yadda yadda. So far, no one has reported him missing.”

That pulled his attention away from the file. A kid like this and no one missing him? That didn’t seem right. Everyone should be missed. “Seriously? No one?” Mags shook her head sadly. “That’s fucked up. There’s only like a million of those fuckers around and no one cares about this guy?”

“I don’t know Mickey. I just give you what he gives me.” She motioned to the covered body. “I can tell you that cause of death was not the gunshot. It was done postmortem. That explains the no blood. He was already dead when the shot was fired. Which I found odd because I found his prints on the gun.”

“So, either the gun was his or someone planted his prints on there and made it look like suicide.” He closed the file and focused on the white sheet. “Do you have the cause of death?”

Mags shook her head. “Not yet. It’s proving difficult to narrow it down. I ruled out the 38 special, but he did have a massive amount of drugs in his system. A long Tox screen. He could have overdosed, and someone dumped him, made it look like he did it himself.”

Mickey shook his head. “Too much effort to conceal an OD. There was no reason to shoot him if it was an accident.” He poked his tongue into the corner of his mouth. “What drugs did you find?”

She asked for the file back and opened it to the mile long page. “Recreational; marijuana, methamphetamine, alcohol, MDMA, heroine, cocaine.” She took a breath. “A cocktail and some couldn’t or wouldn’t have mixed together to make it pleasant.”

His eyes were wide as he looked down at the faceless sheet. He had a hard time believing Ian was a junkie. “Jesus that’s a lot of shit. And non recreational?”

“That list is shorter. I found Lamictal, Zoloft, and Seroquel. I also found a drug called Truvada.”

Mickey just stared blankly at her. “Okay, I’ll ask again. What did he have in his system?”

Mags sorted a laugh. “Zoloft is an antidepressant, Seroquel is an antipsychotic and Lamictal is a mood stabilizer. It’s a cocktail, but unlike the others it’s prescription and all help treat and manage one condition.”

His eyebrows rose again. Waiting for her to continue. “Which is?”

“Ian Gallagher had bipolar disorder.”

He shook his head. “I guess it’s genetic?”

Mags nodded. “His mother has a record also and her medical file says the same thing. I guess it had to pass to one of those kids and this is our winner.”

Mickey looked down at Ian and gripped the desk hard, so he didn’t pull the sheet back. It was almost as difficult as looking at the sheet. “I guess that makes some sense, the stories I heard I mean. Some bad shit for sure. But you found another drug right, uh Truvida?”

“Truvada for PreP , it helps protect against HIV. It does not cure HIV or AIDS, but combinations of the drug are known to slow it down.” She explained quickly, getting to the point.

Looking at Ian, be in the alive version of him or this one, he didn’t look like someone to have all that to deal with. But then again, people don’t have to look depressed to be depressed. It didn’t single people out like that. You either are or you’re not and Ian was. Monica was. It was a lot to deal with and part of him was happy the kid didn’t have to deal with it anymore. The other part wanted to punch that first thought. Fuck that. The kid should be alive and smiling in the sunshine. 

“That’s a lot of shit for someone who doesn’t weight over 140 pounds.” He shook his head and knew with first hand knowledge that mixing recreational drugs was a science. You can’t just smoke weed and do coke at the same time. Most of that stuff didn’t mix well, add that with his prescription drugs and this kid was a walking medical hazard. 

“Most of those don’t mix well Mickey. Not blended with his disorder. He would go through periods of manic and depressive episodes and some of that shit would only make it worse.”

“Does any of that shit lead to cause of death?” he looked up, hopeful. All this medial talk was making it hard to think about anything else. “I need cause of death.”

“And I said I need more time with that. But I have other shit to tell you if you be nice.”

Mickey smiled and ordered a nod in apology. “All ears Mags.”

“Good.” She smiled back and glanced through the file. “Onto the question of assault, it’s hard to be sure. There was definitely signs of penetrative sex, no fluids so whoever it was used a condom and as for trauma, there was little to none.”

“Okay, so was it just consensual sex or did someone rape him?” His voice was a little high. It wasn’t uncommon for men to be raped, but most didn’t report it.

“To me, it looks like rough sex. No tearing or blood but with all those drugs in his system I doubt he could put up much of a fight. But sex did occur, I’ll leave it to you to discover what happened.”

That didn’t make him feel better. If Ian was all doped up on all those drugs and someone initiated sex, it was still rape. He wouldn’t have been coherent enough to consent. It also presented another question. If Ian was gay or not. Just because there were signs didn’t mean he was gay. But it was something he would have to ask the family.

“Fuck, okay then.” He could feel the energy draining out of him with each answered question. “And the frozen thing? Just the cold or did someone stuff his lanky ass in a freezer?”

“Not from the cold. His organs are slowly thawing out so that tells me he was kept somewhere. Freezer probably but he was not completely frozen either. More like someone jammed him in for a bit, no more than 3 days and tosses him out.”

Mickey nodded. Whoever did this probably needed to hide him until it was safe to dispose of him. Smart. Throws off time of death for sure and blasts away half their evidence. 

“And considering his size, it had to be a walk in freezer of some kind. Its easy to toss a warm body into a smaller one but they’d be frozen in that exact position. He was rather spread out so it would have to be a decent size.”

“That could be a number of things.” He huffed and Mags didn’t comment because she knew already. “Any DNA evidence? I know you said the guy wore a rubber.”

She nodded. “No semen, or saliva and if there was, it would probably be compromised by the cold temperature. But I did find a short brown hair, follicle still intact. I sent it to DNA, see if our perp has a record. No prints, again because of him being slightly undercooked.”

“Would we be able to use the fingerprint bruises for anything? Maybe compare along the road?”

Mags seemed to consider it for a second. “We can try. I think it would be hard to sell in court, but it would tell you who the perp isn’t. I’ll lift them and scan them, see if we get some luck. I’ll also make an impression in case lifting doesn’t work.”

He felt better immediately. Like he had a good suggestion. Even if it didn’t pan out, he was trying. He stood and asked for the file back, which she handed him, and he tucked it under one arm. He needed to head up and see if Amara found anything out on his end. Or to see if the family had contacted them, and if not, he’d be making a house call within a few hours. But it was hard to leave. 

“Hey, you mind givin me a second?” Mickey asked quietly, unable to not meet her eyes. He didn’t know what she saw but she nodded and quietly left him alone. He set the file down on the end of the metal table and started to pace.

It seemed to help. He didn’t feel stuck anymore. It felt like he was being productive. Window to the desk, desk to the table, table to the other window and back again. By now, his body should have adjusted to a new case, even with no sleep. The details shouldn’t have bothered him so much and if they did, he would be good at hiding it. But not now. Not with Ian.

“Ian.” He whispered.

Saying the name didn’t sound wrong. It sounded good. It felt good to say it out loud. Where he didn’t have to pretend this wasn’t getting to him. That some kid he never knew was making him angry, sad…that he was gone. That he never got the chance to meet him. And even to Mickey, especially to Mickey, it sounded fucked up and a lot crazy. 

It occurred to him that if Ian was still alive, they would never have crossed paths. Over a 10 year difference was a big gap. A 35 being friends or acquaintances with a 22 year old? It was odd. He would never have known him, for good reason. But as Mickey slowly peeled that sheet back, in that moment, all he wanted to do was know Ian Gallagher.


	2. Drive Me Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a little weird for Mickey the longer he works this case. He starts to see things that aren't there, that can't possibly be real.

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 2- Drive Me Crazy

“Okay, so we know Gallagher wasn’t killed from the shot, we know he was suffering from mental illness, we know he may have had some kind of sex before he died, or rape, depending on further testing…”

Mickey focused on his coffee as Amara stated the facts…again. For the 3rd time in the last 3 hours. DNA took time, having the data base search the prints Mags pulled off Ian’s thighs also took some time. The body needed time to unthaw which took more time and it felt like he was running out of the thing they needed most…time.

Each time he glanced up at the large story board and saw bright green eyes and that adorable smile, each second, each hour they spent waiting felt like he failed. He was tired of waiting. He wanted to find whoever did this and bring Ian a little peace. Was that really so much to ask for? 

They had all they knew spread out on this board. Pictures of Ian’s body, from 3 angles, close ups on the head wound, the marks on his thighs. Mags had called to tell him that more bruising appeared after another hour of thawing. Mostly around his thighs, some around his wrists. Like someone held him down. One side of his cheek was bruised, probably got a face full of knuckles. 

The 38 was stolen. Or there was a report about it being stolen. Belong to a guy named Kash Karib, 40 year old married husband of 3. Reported it stolen from his store Kash and Grab. Mickey knew the place. He’d been there a time or two. But he didn’t know the owners very well. Kash and Grab was a local store on their rapidly growing list to visit. GSR on Ian’s hands lead them to believe he shot himself, from the residue and the angle it was possible, IF he wasn’t already dead before the shot. Someone had made it look like Ian killed himself. 

They had also pulled Ian’s rap sheet. Nothing major. No felonies was a start. Minor shit though. Probably early years. Nearly got popped for Grand Theft Auto, but it was pinned on the older brother. Ian spent 6 months in juvie for having marijuana on him. Not enough to change his life but enough to get him 3 to 6 months. No weapons charges, no assault and battery which was surprising since he lived in the South Side. That was almost a prerequisite for living there. 

There was a note down at the bottom of the rap sheet that startled him a little. Attempted solicitation was in parenthesis. Attempted? Like he also got paid for sex? Was that even real? Further investigation revealed that it was labeled “attempted” because Ian wasn’t looking to gain anything from those actions. Like a prostitute who didn’t charge. It was fuckin odd. Both the prospect of Ian being a prostitute and giving out freebies. It made no sense at all. The officer locked him up overnight but didn’t charge him and Ian hadn’t done it again. 

They still needed to get Ian’s medical records, which would mean a trip down town. Hopefully a warrant wouldn’t be needed but Mickey had a feeling the Gallagher family would open a few doors before it resulted in calling a judge. That was a last resort type of thing. Not first tries. 

Amara was still rambling as the door to the precinct opened and Mickey glanced up to see Yev standing here, back pack slung over one shoulder and a black eye. Mickey stood and instantly rushed over, that protective urge fighting it’s way forward as he grasped Yev' chin and angled it up towards the light.

“I hope he looks worse.” Mickey comment as he released him. It wasn’t bad. Didn’t even break the skin but a fist had definitely collided with his sons cheek bone. 

“Damn right he looks worse.” Yev grinned and handed his dad the paper.

Mickey snatched it and frowned as he met the same pair of blue eyes he had. “Suspended huh?” Yev nodded. Mickey knew he’d been suspended from just the prospect of him fighting. Something else made his eyebrows close in on his face. “What’d I tell you Yev?”

He scuffed and shifted his feet.

“I thought…no, I was damn sure I told you not to throw that first punch.” He didn’t want to yell or fight about this. He knew Yev must have had a good reason for fighting because he never did that shit. “If you throw it first, it’s your ass.” He wiggled the paper to make his point. “Bet that fucker got to stay, right?”

“Right. Asshole. They don’t care if he instigated the damn thing. He was askin for a beat down.”

“What the hell made you pop this asshole, huh? You normally walk away from shit like this so what’d he do?”

Yev gave a heated look, feeling just as pissed off now as he had been at school. “Called me a fag, tried to get his douche bag friends to gang up on me.”

Mickey went cold in an instant. He didn’t care if Yev got expelled for that shit. He cared that the other kid didn’t. Slander. Fag bashing? Really? Or a bad attempt? Of course Yev had no problems with gay people seeing how his dad was one, but he wasn’t a pussy either. He didn’t stand for slander like that or fag bashing.

“Hope it fuckin hurt.” Mickey gripped Yev's shoulder and squeezed. A silent, unacknowledged thank you of sorts. Lord knows Mickey had been on the good end of fag bashing. Dished it out to whoever said they were gay. But it was only to mask his own fear of coming out. Of his dad finding out and killing him. It didn’t excuse what he did, not at all, but it was relatable.

Yev grinned and knocked his dads shoulder. “Oh, it did. Caught him square in the damn face. Half his face is purple. One shot too, caught his cheekbone and eye and it darkened up nicely.”

Maybe it was bad to encourage him. But Yev was 16 now. Not a kid. Mickey taught him to defend himself for a reason. And to only do so if he needed. Well, Yev felt the need to on this, so he did. And he won. Pride gushed inside his body and he couldn’t hide the smile. One shot and half the kids face black, that was one hell of a punch.

“Why’d he call you a fag anyway?” Mickey asked, curious. 

“Heard that I was bi. Didn’t like it.” He huffed. “Not that I give a shit what he likes but he’s on the damn football team so of course they took his side.”

Mickey knew his son was bisexual. If he didn’t, he wasn’t much of a parent. And Yev had never told him he was. Mickey just knew and if Yev ever wanted to say it, like he just did, he’d be there to listen and support. But of course football douche would care. Too ‘All American' to ever admit to anything other than being straight. But Yev shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I know you don’t hide but you also don’t broadcast that shit either. How’d he find out?” Mickey lead him back towards his desk without a second thought as to why he shouldn’t be there.

“Winter formal is coming up and this guy asked me to go.”

Mickey smiled, maybe a little too widely. Yev had girlfriends before, but not guys. Not yet. But you didn’t need to date guys to be bisexual. “Well look at you with all that game.” Yev grinned. “You say yes?”

“I did.” He mimicked his dads grin. “That’s when he heard and decided it was his fuckin business.”

Mickey shook his head because that shit didn’t matter. So what, one day suspension? Piece of cake. And Yev was still smiling and Mickey never felt so proud that this turned out to be his kid. Maybe he and Svetlana didn’t fail so hard after all. They raised him right. 

“Don’t worry about that fucker. He’ll get what’s comin in due time.” He slapped Yev on the back, making them both smile. Chatter from across the room made Mickey turn and saw that Amara was still yapping on, talking to himself as he studied the board. “Amara! Take a break will ya? You’re given me a headache.”

Amara groaned and turned to see Mickey and Yev. He smiled brightly and walked over, shoving Mickey but lightly squeezing Yev's shoulder in hello. “Hey kid! Good to see you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Yev never failed to make the other guy smile like an idiot. Probably because Yev was the spitting image of him, but less mean and likely to hit people. “Damn, don’t look so happy to see the kid.”

Yev glares at him and smiled back at Amara. “Dad’s just mad because you like me better.”

Amara laughed and Mickey made a fake gagging sound, clutching at his stomach. “Like hell he does. He has to like you, or he couldn’t be my partner.” Yev only scuffed at him and Amara looked more than pleased. That fucker smiled too much. “So, you headed home?”

Yev nodded. “Yeah, on my way now. Wanted to give you my side before the principal calls and says it’s all my fault.”

Mickey shook his head. It was probably the same principal as when he went there. His last name posed its own set of problems and now the torch was passed to Yev. He gripped Yev on the shoulder and started leading him to the exit when the kid stopped so suddenly, Mickey smashed into his back.

Mickey attempted to shove him forward, only for Yev to dodge it and stare in the direction of his desk. His face, the smile was gone, light eyebrows high on his face, blue eyes wide and moist. He looked positively shaken. Mickey followed his gaze and noticed the evidence board was visible and it must have spooked him.

“Shit Yev, I thought I flipped that.” He went to flip it but Yev gripped his arm so hard it pinched. “Yev what the fuc—”

“T-that’s Ian.” Yev's voice wavered a little as he looked harder, like it would give him more answers.

Mickey’s eyes grew increasingly wide and he stepped in front of Yev and looked into his eyes but Yev was looking past him, at the board he blocked. He grabbed the side of Yev's neck, trying not to panic right now. Yev looked freaked and he needed answers before he was able to lose his shit, preferably in private. 

“Kid,” his voice was as steady as it was going to get and even Amara looked concerned, arms crossed as he stared at Yev. “I need to know how you know his name.”

“He’s dead?” Yev asked, voice a little watery.

“Yes, he is.” He nodded at Amara who flipped the board and this time Yev let him. “Kid, I can’t tell you the details because it’s ongoing, but I need to know how you know him.” 

Yev finally looked down at his dad and nodded, stepping away from the blank board. “Uh, I’ve…I’m, well his brother…”

Mickey lead him to a chair, Amara hot on his heels like he was just as worried as he was. Yev sat down and he gave him a moment to compose himself. “Just breathe. Go slow and take your time.”

Yev took a few deep breaths before trying again. Looking at his dad and Amara for…something. Support maybe. “That’s Ian Gallagher. Um, I don’t know him really. More in passing.” Deep breath. “I go to school with his brother Carl.”

“That Carl is Carl Gallagher? Like Frank and Monica?” Yev nodded and put his head in his hands. “Fuck.” He mumbled and stood to gather his thoughts, running a hand through his hair. “Shit kid, I’m sorry.”

Yev nodded, his face as blank as he could make it. “Have you told them yet?”

Mickey shook his head as Amara handed Yev a water bottle, pausing to lightly squeeze his shoulder. “Not yet. That was our first stop. We only got the call this morning.”

“They are going to be crushed dad.” Yev took the water but didn’t drink it. He just stared into it.

“Is there anything you know about him that can help us?” Yev looked at him, sad but knowingly. “You know I have to ask kid and I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know much about him. I only saw him a handful of times but when I did, he was always with his family.”

Mickey nodded. Knowing what Ian had been doing those few times Yev met him was still good information to have. What were the odds that Yev's best friend was Ian’s brother? Had been this whole time. Yev and Carl had been friends for 2 years at least. Went to school together, hung out at their house. Yev even stayed at Carl’s a few times. Yev had contact with Ian.

In what kind of world let Yev know Ian and not him? It didn’t make any sense. Never once had Yev mentioned Carl’s last name. It was a frequently used name in their house. Even Svetlana liked the kid. And the whole time he had been a Gallagher.

“Okay.” He crouched down until Yev looked at him. “Nick and I have to notify the family. I need you to go home and do not tell Carl.”

“But dad—”

Mickey shook his head. “I’m serious Yev. This is an ongoing investigation and you’ve already seen too much shit. You can’t tell him. I know he’s your friend which means you’ll probably get a call from him after, but I can’t show up with them being compromised.”

“He’s right kid. We need to see reactions and get the details just in case.” Amara spoke up, trying to keep his voice soft.

Amara was right. As much as he hated how bad it sounded, they needed to see how the family reacted to the news. Some things you can’t hide very well, and the truth was, whoever killed Ian, was close to him.

Mickey stood back up the second a flash of red caught his eye from the doorway. Just a quick flash, like someone rushing past, late for something. He knew that color. It matched Ian’s hair. No doubt. He ignored Yev's and Amara's confused faces, pushed past them and their questions to run to the doorway.

His heart was beating fast, threatening to jump from his chest like in a cartoon. The hallway was empty as he looked to the left. But that red flashed over his eyes again as he looked to the right, dashing around the corner before he could blink.

“Ian.” Mickey gasped and ran down the crowded hallway, pushing past everyone a little forcefully then he meant to. Sorry could come later. Ian was there somehow. Alive and darting around the hallways. 

By the time he turned the corner Ian darted around, he was gone. No sign of that hair anywhere in the gloomy hallway. Nothing. Mickey breathed deeply and felt like he was going to be sick. He didn’t know what was happening right now. 

Ian Gallagher was dead. There was no way he was running around the hallways of the precinct. No fucking way. Maybe he was finally losing it after all these years dealing with these crimes. He was cracking.

“Fuck, fuck!” he hissed and stomped down the hallway, ignoring the glares and the guy with spilled coffee on his shirt. When he got back, Yev was standing and Amara had his arms wrapped around his small frame. It looked like Yev was talking but Mickey was distracted by the wetness on his sons cheeks. “Damn it.”

Amara caught his eye and slowly released Yev for him to wipe his face and sit down. Mickey tried to control his own shit, he was wrong comment away from freaking out. “Kid okay?”

Amara nodded. “He's a little freaked. I bet what just happened didn’t help.”

Mickey groaned and fisted his hair, he had the urge to pull it all out. “Fuck! God, fuck fuck.”

“What just happened Mick?” Amara softened his voice. “You looked like you saw a fuckin ghost.”

Mickey snorted but not like it was funny but because it was closer to the truth. There was no way he would sound sane saying he saw Ian Gallagher running down the hallways. He’d be taken off the case and that couldn’t happen.

“I don’t know what’s happening Nicky.” He sat down in the nearest chair, hands holding his face, just like Yev was. “Do me a favor?” Amara nodded. “Take him home. I don’t want him walking or to be alone, but I can’t—I think I’d make it worse.”

“No problem Mick.” Amara put a hand on his partners shoulder. “Just wait until I get back before you go. I need to be there.”

Mickey nodded and walked back over to Yev. “Kid, Nicky is gonna take you home.”

Yev nodded and stood up to gather his things. “Please call me when you’re done there. Please? I should be there after.”

Mickey nodded because he did understand, he really did. He pulled Yev into a hug and it took a moment for him to hug back because Mickey hardly did this. Not that he didn’t love his son, but they always had a way of expressing themselves without public shows of affection. However, they both needed that by the way Yev hugged him back just as tight.

“I will bud, promise.” He pulled back and watched as Amara put an arm around his shoulder and Yev seemed to sag against him, relief maybe. Mickey was happy Yev had that with Nick. That he had both of them. After this, he was going to need it.

**

Surprisingly Amara hadn’t taken long to drop Yev off at his apartment and was back with coffee within the half hour. Mickey accepted it as he grabbed his jacket and they walked out to the car. Amara drove because he wasn’t sure if he could focus enough right now. 

The whole time Amara had been gone, Mickey had tried to figure out what happened. He hadn’t really seen Ian, right? Right. Ian was gone. He couldn’t just get up and walk around. But just to be sure, Mickey had taken another trip down stairs to see Mags. He didn’t go in. He only walked off the elevator and saw the tuff of red hair still sticking out of the sheet. Dead. Cold and dead and not alive. 

That should have made him feel better. It didn’t. He felt more alone then before. Cold and distant. It was awful. Combine all that with seeing hallucinations and Mickey really did think he was losing his fucking mind. Maybe he wanted to see Ian alive so bad that his mind made it happen, it gave him what he wanted. 

“You okay?”

Mickey looked up from the picture on his phone, to glance at Amara. “Honestly?” Amara nodded. “I don’t think so Nicky. I really think I’m fuckin losin it.”

“Wanna talk it out? Maybe get a little perspective as to why this case is takin such a toll this early?”

Mickey nodded but only glanced back down at his phone. He was frozen on a picture of Yev and Carl. Yev had Carl in a headlock, both of them smiling. Yev had sent it to him one day out of the blue. He saved it because of how happy his son seemed at the time. And with Carl Gallagher.

When Amara stopped at a red light, he turned the phone to show him. Amara smiled brightly and chuckled, same as he had done. “That was taken a few months ago.” 

“Carl, right?”

Mickey nodded. It was a good guess since Nick never me Carl. “Yeah, all this time and I didn’t know his last name.” he huffed because that was bad parenting.

“Mick, you don’t need your sons friends last names for them to be friends. Just be happy Yev has a good friend like that.”

“Yeah. I know and I am happy. They have been friends for a long time.” He turned the phone back and looked closely at it. “But look, not at them but in the back, far right corner.”

Amara snatched the phone at the next red light and looked where Mickey pointed. 

“See it?” he asked, hopeful that he wasn’t seeing shit again. He had studied that picture ever since Yev left and it took him 20 minutes to find it and another 10 staring at it. 

“Is that--?” Amara gave a worried expression.

Mickey nodded and took the phone back. There was someone standing in the back ground as the picture was taken. Walking past so when the picture was taken, he had been mid step, walking off camera, and had wild red hair, cropped short to his head.  


“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it.” He closed the phone and looked out the window as Canaryville passed by. “Just walking behind my son. Like he was fine. He was alive and my son had been there with him.”

“Yev did say he knew him a little. He spent a lot of time there with Carl, right?” 

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, and I never knew it. He, Ian was there the whole time, spending time my son and now he’s dead.” 

“Is that what’s buggin you? That Yev was around Ian?” he asked because he really didn’t understand.

“What’s buggin me is that it's buggin me. I don’t know this kid Nicky. Never met him before. Not once. Not even with Yev being friends with his brother.” He glanced back out the window. “I shouldn’t care past that professional point. And I do.”

Amara was silent for a moment and Mickey thought for sure the guy would toss a straight jacket at him. The car rolled to a stop on an empty street and he could feel the rumble of the L close by. They were near the Gallagher House.

“I have noticed you acting a little odd. Not bad odd but different then our normal cases.”

Great, so Amara knew. Means others could too and he wasn’t hiding a damn thing from anyone but himself maybe. “Earlier, I thought I saw him.” Amara lifted an eyebrow but didn’t speak. “And no, before your dumbass asks me, I don’t mean I saw him in the morgue. I was talkin to Yev and out of nowhere, I see a red flash run by and I see him.”

“Shit, no wonder you’re a little off today. That shit would freak me the hell out.”

Mickey nodded. He still felt like he wasn’t explaining it clear enough. It almost felt like seeing a ghost, if that shit was real. Mickey turned away from Amara's concerned look and glanced back out the window. Then, like he jinxed it, red caught his attention from the back seat. He leaned closer to the side mirror and Ian Gallagher was sitting in the back, right behind his seat.

Unlike the first time when he ran off, this Ian just sat there, looking right at him. The corners of his mouth curling up into a sweet looking smile. It made his heart clench and surprisingly enough, he wanted to cry. To break down and tell Ian how sorry he was, to promise to bring him some justice, some peace. 

Mickey gave one last look at Ian in the mirror before he slowly turned around. The seat was empty. Just Amara's gym bag stuffed into the floor. Where did he go? Where did he keep going?

“Mick?” Amara questioned, worried as his partner kept staring off into space, totally checked out.

Mickey turned back around and glanced in the mirror. Ian was there again. In the same spot he was in before. That same smile on his freckled face. Looking at him. Drawing his attention. 

“Is there anything in the back seat?” Mickey asked carefully. He wanted to say someone, but he wasn’t that crazy yet. Amara looked at him but kept quiet, then turned back to look. Mickey didn’t move, he kept his eyes on Ian in the mirror. 

“I see my gym bag.”

Mickey deflated quickly. He was both hoping that Amara would see Ian too, and happy he didn’t. Like maybe Ian only wanted to see him. “You sure?”

Amara scuffed. “I’m sure Mick. I bet if I dig around, I can find something else though.”

Mickey nodded and Ian only smirked at him. He really wanted to scream, to ask what Ian wanted, or if seeing him made him crazy. Amara couldn’t see him. Mickey couldn’t see him, not unless it was through the mirror. 

“Wave your arm back and forth.” Mickey blurted without thinking or looking away. Ian’s smile widened and Amara looked like he was one step away from calling the nut house.

“Mick—”

“Just fuckin do it, okay? I just need to see something.” He watched from the mirror as Amara's arm moved up and down, right where Ian was sitting, and it passed through him without disturbing him at all. “Fuck.” 

“See? Nothin back there Mickey. Maybe you’re just over worked and need a break.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” He mumbled back but refused to look away from the back seat. He didn’t want Ian to leave. He wanted to see those green eyes and his red hair and that perfect little smile. One that kept growing the more he stared back at him. It was contagious. Mickey found himself covering up a smile with the back of his hand.

“This is the place.”

The smile fell from his lips as he turned to look at Amara who looked a little bit wide eyed. Now was not the time to be smiling because a dead person was in your back seat. That shit was never a good thing. Amara got out and Mickey nearly pissed himself the moment Ian leaned forward in the seat, hands literally an inch away from his shoulders.

“Come on Mick, come meet my family.”

His mouth dropped open when he spoke. It sounded like a whisper. One that the wind could easily blow away. At first, he was seeing Ian and now Ian was talking to him? 

“Ian?” he questioned as soon as he found his voice. Afraid to move, afraid to do much of anything. Ian only smiled and it was so hard not to jerk away when he moved closer.

“Come on.”

Two words floated around long enough for him to take a glance at the house and when he looked back, Ian was gone. Mickey turned around and waved his arm around the back but felt nothing but the cooling car. Ian wasn’t even in the mirror anymore. He was just gone. And Mickey had never felt so alone. 

**

Mickey shifted uncomfortably on the front porch of the Gallagher house. Shifting from foot to foot, casing the place like someone was about to pull a shotgun and chase them off the porch. In this neighborhood that was very likely. 

Amara knocked lightly and they could hear shuffling and muted yells even through the door. While they waited, Mickey studied the yard. It was cleaner than most yards. No trash or old furniture. But toys rather, bikes, skates. Normal shit for having kids around. It felt too real being here. Like Ian would open the door and give that smile and invite them into the warm house. 

But Ian would never give another smile. Not a real one anyway. There would be no sitting down for coffee to share the news…if Ian was alive, there wouldn’t be any news to share. Mickey would go on not knowing him and Ian would do the same. Unaware of the other or the link with Yev that connected them. Continuously passing by but never intersecting.

The jiggle on the door handle snapped Mickey to attention and he tried to prepare for this as much as he could. Informing a family that they lost someone was the hardest part. He didn’t want to see when this happy little family fell apart at their feet. When their lives changed forever, never to be the same again.

When the door opened, his heart clenched painfully. So bad that he put one hand over it and tried not to wince. It wasn’t Frank or Monica, she was way younger, but older than Ian. Brown wavy hair with soft brown eyes and a bright smile. Her smile didn’t falter when she saw them, strangers.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

Amara stayed silent and Mickey knew his partner was letting him take the lead. “Fiona Gallagher?”

Ian’s older sister. Caretaker since both parents were deadbeats. She was only 4 years older than Ian and the oldest child but had been raising the younger ones for all their lives. She was truly a Saint.

She nodded with a smile. “Yes, that’s me.”

God, that smile. Beautiful. Kind. Caring. And he was about to crush it. Mickey smiled tightly and together him, and Amara pulled their badges and her smile slipped. “I’m detective Mikhalio Milkovich, my partner Nick Amara, Chicago PD.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked, worried. Arms crossed against her chest. 

“Are you related to an Ian Gallagher?” Mickey was surprised his voice didn’t waiver. But he felt like he wanted to fucking break down. 

“Yes, I’m his older sister.” She looked back and forth between the two men. “Is he okay? What happened?”

“Miss Gallagher, I am very sorry to tell you this…” deep breath. Her eyes fell and he knew she knew. It was right there. “We recovered Ian’s body early this morning, just three blocks away from here.”

“What? No, this must be a mistake.”

Mickey wished it was. “Miss, I can’t imagine…” he trailed off as the first tear fell against her cheek. “I’m afraid it’s not a mistake. We ran his prints.” Another tear. Then another. Then another. “The body we found is your brothers.”

Amara's arm bumped against his own and held. Giving him the support he needed because just like Fiona and her teary brown eyes, he felt his fill up, threatening to spill out. Mickey caught her when she fell, a horrifyingly loud sound erupting from her throat. Grief. Pain. Heart break. Her knees buckled and she hugged him hard, muffling her cries into his damp jacket. 

The embrace didn’t go unreturned. He wrapped his arms around her slim body and hugged her like she was his family. Each heart wrenching sob that escaped pushed right into his heart, cutting it like glass. He felt a hand on his neck and turned to see Amara a little watery eyed. Shit like this hurt everyone.

When she pulled back, that friendly face was long gone and maybe it would never be back. He blinked past the lump in his throat as she wiped her face and tried to get herself under some modicum of control. Each time she tried to speak, it came out as a sob or a watery, gargled sound and he reached out to hold both of her hands, squeezing tightly.

“What happened?” she finally asked, her voice small and weak. 

Mickey cleared his throat. “We are currently investigating that right now.” 

Fiona nodded. Normally, this would be the moment when they were invited in to talk. But from the sounds coming from within, everyone was home, and she shut the door, stepped onto the porch and huddled against herself. Mickey shrugged off his coat and easily put it around her body. 

It was big, she looked like a child wearing her dads clothes. But she offered up another smile and pulled it close around her as her face fell and new tears started to fall. 

“I’d invite you in but—”

“That’s okay. We understand.” Amara assured her with a smile. The best one he could muster up. 

“Are you sure?” she croaked, a hand up to her mouth.

Mickey nodded. “Can you tell us when the last time you saw him?”

“Uh, um…God, I don’t know.” She mumbled. “H-he has his own place now, his own job. He stops by a few times a week to help out.”

Mickey nodded and saw Amara writing it down. “This is listed as his current address. Was the transition out recent?”

Fiona nodded. “About 2 months ago. The kids are getting bigger and we needed the room. So did he.”

The tears were back. Or maybe they never stopped. “Maybe we should do this at another time?” He offered but she shook her head, brown hair everywhere.

“No, please. I need to know what happened.”

Well, at least he tried. He never understood when people wanted to wait to answer questions. It would drive him mad if he had to wait. “We are still early in our investigation. His cause of death is still unknown, but the medical examiner puts it at about 4 days ago.”

“4 days…4 days…” she mumbled, wracking her brain. 

“That would have been a Sunday.” He offered and it seemed to help. 

“I didn’t see him on Sunday. I had a late shift at the diner.”

“Diner?” Amara asked.

“Patsy's.” Fiona clarified with a sniff. “But he was here for breakfast on Saturday morning. He usually tried to come every Saturday.”

That was both good and bad. A pattern was easy to trace. It would let them trace where he was before he died, but it gave someone else open access as well. “And how did he seem? Anything out of the ordinary with him on that day, compared to other days?”

Fiona wiped her face again, but it didn’t little to help. It paved the way for new ones. “He seemed fine actually. Happy. We had breakfast, he caught up with the kids.” She let out a sob. “H-had a snowball fight…”

Mickey felt like he was going to crack. Family breakfast, laughing with his siblings, a clichéd snowball fight. It was very…normal. But when that word is used, often there in an underbelly. A dark place. A place for secrets. 

“Uh, c-can I see him?” her voice broke. “I really need to see him.” 

Amara put away his pen and notebook. “Of course. Is now a good time? You could ride back with us unless you need to tell them.”

Fiona shook her head. “I need to see him. To make sure. I don’t want any mistake.”

There was no mistake. Ian was their man. Taken away in the prime of his life. “Anything you want.”

Fiona nodded and handed his jacket back to him. “I just need to grab my purse.” 

She slipped in quietly and Mickey felt like his strings had been cut. Good thing Amara had a firm hand on the center of his back, bracing him. He didn’t know why this was happening to him. It felt like someone just broke the news to him. Like Ian was a member of his family and not a stranger.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

His voice sounded so sure. So confident. It made him ache for that. For the distance. Amara's phone started to ring, and Mickey was pulled from his thoughts while he answered it.

“Hey baby.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at the soft tone. A loving tone. It was out of place here. It made him feel out of place. Amara moved off the porch, muttering something about starting the car and crossed the street to talk on the phone. Mickey knew it wasn’t Nina. That’s not how he greeted her over the phone. Whoever called had to be his side piece. 

“Asshole.” He muttered and leaned back against the house to light a smoke. The first inhale had him feeling calmer as he closed his eyes and listened to the muffled sounds of people talking from inside. The door squeaked as it opened but he didn’t open his eyes.

“She seems sad.”

Mickey jumped so far, his elbow slammed into the house. A sharp, tingling pain creeping up his elbow. He blinked a few times and still the image of Ian standing next to him didn’t waver. His smile was no longer there. His green eyes less bright. He was sad. And his voice still sounded like a whisper.

With a quick glance around, Amara still occupied, and Fiona had yet to come out, he was able to take a moment to talk. “She’s sad because you’re gone.”

Ian frowned. “Where did I go?” 

Fuck, the crack in his voice made Mickey want to go up and hug the fuck out of him. To tell him everything would be okay, that it would work out and everyone would be happy. But a liar he was not. That shit wouldn’t help Ian right now. Nothing short of discovering the truth about what happened to him would suffice. The people that cared for him would suffer. 

“You’re just gone Ian.” Mickey whispered around the cigarette that dangled from his lips. He so badly wanted to change that frown for a smile. “You left them.” 

Ian didn’t respond and he didn’t meet his eyes. He hunched in on himself, much like Fiona had done and stared down at the icy porch. It fuckin hurt. He hurt. His whole damn body hurt. Mickey wanted this over. All of it. He wanted it out of his mind, off his desk, he wanted the sweet version of Ian he never knew out of his heart. He just wanted out.

The door opened again and as Fiona stepped out, face slightly less red, with a heavy jacket on and a purse slung over one shoulder and Ian was gone again. Mickey shook off the chill, one that wasn’t caused by the cold and gave her a nod towards the street.

It would be an awkward ride back to the precinct. Quiet. Dreadful. She would cry. He would try his fuckin hardest not to. Amara would just be there. Steady and dependent. And the rest of the world would keep going as if nothing had happened. It would continue to spin while they remained in this nightmare where Ian Gallagher had trapped them.

**

Mickey stood at Fiona's side from the moment they exited the car, until they stood in the morgue, that metal table empty in front of them. She was quiet, too quiet. Probably afraid to ask anything until she got to see Ian for herself. Some people needed to see the proof that their loved one was dead. She was one of them. She needed to see it to believe it and he wasn’t going to leave her to suffer through that alone like he had to.

All they needed was Mags. She told them to wait for her, that she was reporting something to his Captain and would be right down. It would be simple enough to find which of the 10 morgue freezers held Ian’s body, but this type of reveal needed to be handled delicately and he knew he couldn’t do it.

So, they waited. Side by side, their shoulders nearly touching. He noticed she kept stealing glances at him every now and then and he knew she would start asking questions any moment. Hopefully Mags hurried the hell up before he was too honest with her. There were some things she didn’t need to know and others that needed to wait for additional information to be accurate. But waiting was a bitch.

“You…” Fiona cleared her throat. “Your last name is Milkovich?”

Mickey nodded. “It is.”

“So Yev is your son?”

“He is.” He answered simply. He figured she couldn’t process anything too complicated. “My son and your brother Carl are best friends.”

Fiona nodded. “I knew the moment I saw you who you were. Yev looks just like you, aside from the hair.” She smiled as much as she could.

He appreciated the effort. It showed tremendous amounts of strength and he didn’t doubt she earned every bit of it the hard way. “I didn’t know Carl was a Gallagher. I guess it just never came up before.”

“He hates that last name. I’m sure they all do.”

“Yeah, The Gallagher’s and The Milkovich family have that same issue. The names are like a curse.” He shook his head because before he became a detective, he really felt cursed. “I think you went to school with my sister; Mandy.”

Fiona nodded. “I did. She’s one of the few I actually remember.” 

Mickey snorted. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Compared to all those assholes, she wasn’t so bad.”

He took it for the compliment it was. Mandy was a handful, 2 or 3 of them maybe. But there were worse people in the world and they both knew that. Mickey also took this for what it was, a distraction. 

“This can’t be real.”

Fiona mumbled after a while and he could hear the tears in her voice. She knew it was real. He knew she could feel it. “I wish I could tell you it wasn’t. I really do.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen to us.”

They all say that. Each family. Every tragedy. “This only happens to other people.” “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” It was all the same and the ugly truth was, no one was immune to it. To death and pain. One size fit all and it was Russian Roulette to see whose turn it was. The chamber stopped on Gallagher this time.

“I just want you to know, that we, I am doing everything I can to find the truth.” 

The door opened and Mags walked in, her face set in a grim line and they hadn’t even started yet. This was a long day for everyone. “Hey Mags, this is Fiona Gallagher.”

Mags nodded with a look if sympathy and offered her hand to the crying woman. Mickey watched as Mags lead her to the freezer furthest away from the door. Ian’s. He moved up behind her, ready to catch her when her legs buckled again. When, not if. And Mags might be the one that would have to catch him. He had not yet seen Ian’s body fully yet, not aside from that first time and he didn’t know if he was ready for all that.

“Remember dear, you don’t need to look. I can tell you for sure.”

Fiona shook her head. “No. I need to see.”

Mickey nodded and Mags opened the square door and quietly pulled the retractable table out, Ian’s body on top, still covered with that sheet. Even his hair. He and Fiona seemed to take a deep breath as Mags gripped the sheet and slowly pulled it back to reveal Ian’s face.

“No…no.” Fiona reached out but took her hand back. “Oh sweet face.” 

Mickey blinked quickly. That lump forming in his throat as she began to break down all over again. The tremble in her body was very noticeable but she never moved, she never stopped crying and whispering things to her little brother. Things that made Mickey want to start talking also, to let Ian know how much he was missed.

“This can’t be real.” She cried, sobbing all over the place.

“Fiona…” he used her first name like they were friends and she turned to him, fucking broken. No factory reset for this. She was broken. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his body, wrapped his arms around her as she fell apart. As he did. Mags silently folded the sheet down and took Ian away, again and left. Leaving them alone.

“Fuck.” He cursed as the first tear rolled off his cheek and into her hair. She squeezed him tight and he squeezed her right back. The more she cried, the harder he cried until his legs buckled and they were huddled up together against the row of freezers, temporary coffins, and cried. They cried for Ian, for their family. They cried for the pain and what would never be. They cried for each other and themselves. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered in her hair, lightly kissing the top of it as he stared straight ahead, at the solemn red head that watched from outside. Ian. Watching them fall apart over him.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t really there. It didn’t matter if Mickey thought he might actually be crazy. The only thing that mattered was that Ian was gone. Taken from them and no matter how much they cried, how much they prayed and how much they loved him, Ian would never come back.


	3. Harsh Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey learns a few things about Ian's day to day life and a new suspect arises

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 3- Harsh Truths

The art of making coffee, or watching coffee making itself was rather soothing and nerve wracking at the same time. The constant drip-drip sound was like hearing rain outside, soothing the grated edges of your mind after a long day. But slowly watching the pot fill up, inch by slow inch made him want to yell at it to go faster.

The devil was in coffee form today. 

Finally it gave one last hiss, probably at his death glare towards the ancient machine and Mickey was able to pour three cups of coffee. Fiona was currently sitting in their sitting room at the precinct, the interrogation room was too awful for someone who had no reason to be there.

It had taken them nearly half an hour to unwind and stop their crying and Ian had long since left his sight. Mickey wondered where he went when he left like that. Did he just disappear until…what? It seemed like he only appeared when Mickey was thinking too hard about him. Then he popped up like he’d always been around. It made him wonder if it would be easier if Ian stayed away or if he always stayed.

Amara was currently talking to Fiona, nothing too heavy yet. That required coffee. Knowing him, he was probably talking about his kids, about his family. The cheating bastard. It was easy gloating about your family when the one listening didn’t hear about all the fucking cheating. Fiona might sneer at him if she found out, think less of him. Or, she might understand on a certain fucked up level. 

When Mickey lightly tapped the door with his foot, Amara stood and opened the door, taking the unbalanced coffee. “Stupid machine. I swear it’s like 60 years old.” He shook his head and placed the warm mug down into her waiting hands before he took his own seat. 

“Ours at home isn’t much better.” Fiona smiled. “I remember one time, when Ian was like 11, he tried to make coffee, thinking he was old enough to make it.”

Fiona sniffled and Mickey had to clench around his cup, so he didn’t reach out. She needed to go through this. As mean as that sounded, as awful as bad as that felt, he couldn’t be around all the time to help her through it all. Maybe until the case was solved. But after? All the sleepless nights and broken days, the pain she would feel of never seeing her brother again…he couldn’t be there for that.

“I came down from upstairs because I heard him crying.” She smiled fondly, despite the circumstances. “You’d think someone…. Well, anyways… he said he broke the coffee maker because the coffee game out like this black goo shit.”

Mickey smiled. “I do that at least once a week.” Fiona smiled. “It’s easy to eat it with a spoon.”

“That’s exactly what I told him.” She chuckled again. “So, we sat in the kitchen at 5 in the morning, eating this coffee goo with a spoon.” The chuckled died down and she felt the tears coming again.

“Tell me about him.” Mickey suggested with a small smile. He needed to know certain things to help their investigation, but there were other tactics to getting it. Railroad her until it exhausted her, both mind and body, or let her share a few stories and learn what they could for now. 

“He is…he was just so good.” She mumbled and shrugged like it answered every question. “He had so much light inside him. Even with how we grew up, our parents and the pressure to make money, he stayed good. He stayed sweet.”

“Money, it always comes down to that.” Mickey nodded because he knew how growing up in the South Side was. 

“Yeah. I made him, them go to school each day. But instead of him coming home to relax and finish his homework, he would go to work. Stay until they made him leave and come home. Blast through his homework and fall asleep.”

Mickey stayed quiet because there was more.

“Half the time, he didn’t even eat. We didn’t have much, like ever but we made it work. But Ian, I don’t know if he skipped meals because he was too tried to do much aside from sleep, or if he was leaving more for the younger kids to eat.”

Fuck, that was bad. Mickey had never turned down the chance at food. Never. Well, maybe if Mandy was still hungry and he guessed that Ian was doing the same. Going without so they wouldn’t have to. It was fucked up.

“How old was he then?”

“15.”

Mickey’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, he was young. Helping his brother and I take care of Carl, Debbie and Liam. We all had jobs and watched them.”

“I understand that Ian was bipolar?” Fiona nodded, not at all shocked about how he knew. She knew ready and there was no reason to ask. “Recently, had there been any changes in his moods that called for concern?”

“Honestly, I think he was at the beginning of a manic episode. He seemed more agitated, restless. I could tell the signs, but I also knew he was on his meds.”

Mickey had googled the disorder. He needed to understand it better to be able to understand Ian. To get a different perspective. He knew it was hard to pinpoint an episode or why it would begin. It’s just what happened. What Ian had to endure. 

“Maybe his meds need adjusting?” Both Fiona and Amara looked over at him, surprised. “Do you know if he had an appointment?”

Fiona shook her head, feeling a little taken back that he seemed to understand. “I can give you his doctors information though. She would know more about it.”

Mickey handed over his pen and watched her write the name and number. “I’ll need his home address too if you have that.” She nodded and wrote that too before sliding it back to him.

“Can you tell us where Ian worked? We don’t have anything on record for him.” He watched Fiona shift like she was uncomfortable and considering Ian’s attire when they found him, it was reasonable to hold back. Not to speak ill of the dead. “We have no judgment here about his profession. We just need to talk to his employer and track his movements over the past few days.”

Fiona nodded. “Uh, last time I heard, he was working at The Fairy Tale.”

Amara looked at him, brown eyes normal but Mickey knew if they had been alone, they would be wide. “That’s a club in Boystown.” He stated as if she didn’t know. That didn’t mean Ian was gay. Mickey knew people who worked there that were as straight as they make ‘em. 

“Yes, it is. The money is good. I didn’t approve but he’s an adult and he was able to get his own place and help out with the kids, so it wasn’t my place to judge.”

“What did he do there? Bartender?” he hoped, he really did. Less high risk. 

“Dancer.” 

Mickey showed no emotion, unsure how it would come out. Ian was lanky and fit like a dancer. He didn’t like the idea of Ian dancing exotically for strange men and money, but life was hard, and he took care of his shit. But it was high risk behavior and it did explain the golden shorts. That could also add into why Ian was dead now.

“And how about any relationships? Did he have someone special? Longtime girlfriend, any casual hook ups that you know of?”

Fiona smiled. “No girlfriends detective. Not Ian’s type.” She pegged him with a look, that look.

Amara lightly elbowed him, shaking him back together. Ian is gay. Ian was gay. He danced in a strip club. So many truths were coming out and he knew it didn’t change the way Ian felt to him. Just more layers to the life of Ian Gallagher. Did that mean it was a hate crime? Or was that even a possibility? 

“Do you think…uh, I know it’s a stretch, but we have to take his sexuality into account, this could be a hate crime. Did many people know?”

Fiona nodded. “Ian was very out. He has been since he came out to me when he was 15 but again, where we live, he didn’t go all flashy or anything.”

Too flashy was bad. There would be no gay pride parades through the South Side. No rainbow flags, even too flashy clothes and you could get your ass beat. But hiding was hard, Mickey knew from experience and it warmed his heart to see that Ian’s family accepted him how he was, perfect.

“Trust me, I understand.” She smiled because of course she knew. “Any boyfriends then? Enemies? Anyone he may have told you about that creeped him out?”

“He used to have a boyfriend, but that was months ago, and Ian seemed really happy after the split.”

“Was that normal for him to be happy after a failed relationship?” he clenched his jaw as he spoke, grinding it into a headache that would hit him later. He didn’t like knowing Ian had a boyfriend. But the idea of Ian being alone was just as bad.

She snorted. “No, not even a little normal. Ian loved too easily detective. He loved fast, he loved hard and he loved with all he had. Ian always put others needs and desires before his own. Even when he was suffering, he stashed it away whenever someone needed anything.”

Saint Ian. 

“But not everyone wanted what Ian had to offer. He has always been a looker and they take advantage of it. But he always saw the good in everyone. So no, if he was happy to be away from someone, he had a relationship with, it was bad.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. Bad was not good. There were different kinds of bad. You could have a bad boyfriend in the sense where they cheat, or maybe bad as in he didn’t do his own laundry, bad could also mean neglectful or resorts to physical violence. 

“Bad as in…?”

She nodded, anger and hatred passing over her face. “Ian came home one night, it was after their anniversary and he had a black eye and bruised ribs. I knew what happened, he knew I knew. But kept insisting I was wrong. That the club got intense.”

Mickey gripped his pen so hard it cracked, black ink staining his fingers, dripping onto the top of the table. He didn’t notice it at first. He was having a hard time trying to picture anyone beating on Ian, sweet, loving Ian. But when he did, when that picture came to him mind, Ian’s face darkened with an ugly bruise, ribs swollen and purple, then green, then yellow as they healed. Ian would wince with each movement; walking, laughing, breathing. Everything would hurt and it took a long time to heal. 

Hate didn’t even come close to how he felt. Murderous. Mickey felt murderous. He realized it was too little, too late. Ian was gone, the boyfriend was now an ex and probably wouldn’t bat an eye, he sure as shit didn’t when he was hitting Ian. He flinched when a hand landed on his arm and he blinked back from his impromptu murder fantasy to see dark brown eyes looking at him.

Fiona.

“Honey are you okay?” she asked, very concerned as she looked to his partner. 

Honey. Sweet face. That’s what she’d called Ian. Sweet face. Mothering words, loving words. He nodded, trying to soften his face enough for her to believe him. He looked at Amara who stood and grabbed a handful of paper towels and helped him clean up. 

“Detective Amara, would it be too much to ask to get a moment with Mickey please?”

Mickey glanced over, afraid to see Amara angry for being dismissed in such a nice way. Truth was, Fiona was only asking to be polite. There was no negotiation in her voice. Amara simply smiled, put one hand on his shoulder and left without a word. Now they were alone. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he reached for his coffee, he needed something to fiddle with.

“You tell me detective.” Her voice was soft, concerned. “Did you know my brother?”

Mickey shook his head. “No, not even through Yev. He wasn’t mentioned to me.”

“You sure?”

“Very.” He looked at her. “I would have remembered him Fiona.” That was the truth. If he ever met Ian, even just in passing, he would not be able to forget. Even now, even with the kid being dead, he couldn’t get him off his mind. “Why?”

“Because the way you act, the way you talk about him.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You are grieving him. Just like I am, just like my family will. You act like you lost him too and I don’t understand unless you knew him.”

“I didn’t mean any offense.” 

She smiled and shook her head. “All that, it’s not a bad thing. I’ve just never seen it before. You miss him. Even though you never met him.”

Mickey nodded. “Trust me, I’ve been asking myself this since this morning.” He pushed his coffee away, long since cold and better left forgotten. “I don’t know what it is about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

She didn’t answer because there was no reason for him to feel like this. Nothing. He’d handled a million and one cases like this and it never affected him like this before. She was right, it felt like he lost Ian.

“His name is Zeppelin Raines.” Fiona sneered. “He used to be a bouncer at The Fairy Tale when Ian worked there.”

Mickey clenched his jaw and grabbed his non broken pen to jot down the name. Sounds like a damn rock stars name. “Used to?”

“Ian told me he was fired for the last time he came to work with a black eye. Black and blue doesn’t mix well with red.”

He would probably have to send Amara to talk to this asshole. He knew one wrong word from that assholes mouth and Mickey would punch him out. No use trying to lie about it all. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me? I feel like I don’t know anything.” Fiona raised her eyebrows.

She wasn’t wrong. He didn’t want to tell her the details until she had time to adjust. Well, she’d had time. “I can tell you what I know, which isn’t much. It’s still early.” She nodded and leaned forward. Fuck, this was going to be rough. “Ian was found 3 blocks from your house, wearing a pair of gold shorts and not much else.” Deep breath, for both of them. “Cause of death is proving difficult because of too many variables.”

“Like too many to count?”

He nodded. “We found a slew of drugs in his system. Not just his bipolar meds, but recreational drugs that could have mixed badly with his meds and caused an over does.”

Fiona gasped, a hand over her mouth and he wished that was the least she had to worry about.

“We also recovered a bullet, it appears he was shot in the head.” He reached out to grab her hand and she squeezed as she cried. “But that was done after he was already dead. Probably to cover up what happened.”

“Oh God, why? Who would do this?” She screamed and covered her red face.

“I’m afraid it only gets worse.” She looked at him, shocked. “Maybe it’s better not to—”

“Mickey…detective, please tell me. The things in my mind are worse, please.”

She locked their hands together and he squeezed her hands tightly. “Time of death, as well as cause are being thrown off from…” deep breath. “From being frozen. Whoever did this wanted to make it harder.”

Fiona couldn’t…she just couldn’t. So she didn’t. She just let the tears fall and squeezed his hands.

“You should know why my partner and I got his case.” She looked confused and he had to take an even bigger breath just to explain. Fuck. “Amara…Nick and I work sex crimes Fiona.”

Her hands left his as they shook, and she stood. Mickey stood with her and it looked like she was getting ready to bolt. She paced back and forth as she tried to understand what that meant, and he really wished she didn’t have to do that. Being in the dark was so much better.

“Are you saying he was…? Someone….?” She couldn’t even say it.

“There were signs of sexual activity. But with amount of drugs in his system, he might have been unconscious when it occurred. He was Probably very out of it, unable to consent and that makes it rape.”

“Sick bastards!” She hiccupped, wiping angrily at her face before she stopped short, remembering something. “Wait a second…how? Not consent how?”

Now he was confused. Did she really need him to spell it out? “What do you mean how?”

“I mean, Ian is a top. He fucks people, people don’t fuck him.”

Okay then. That was probably too much information for him. There was no reason for him to know that. He didn’t need any extra Ian shaped thoughts digging around his brain. “Uh, well okay. I don’t think I really needed to know that, but I understand why you’re asking how.” He stood up too and began to walk around, apparently it was helpful. “And no, Ian was not the top in this situation. If that is what you’re asking.”

She paled. “You mean…”

He nodded. He wasn’t going to say it. She couldn’t stomach it and he couldn’t but had no choice. Her face paled, eyes wide, teary and he heard a gross sounding lurch coming from her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna be sick.” Fiona put one hand over her mouth, the other on her stomach and fought it off.

“Ah fuck.” He groaned and lead her to the sink. He managed to step back before she lost it. The coffee, any food she may have had was swirling down the sink. It sounded awful, her crying and being sick, then sobbing and getting sick all over again until she was a mess. She reached out for him and he didn’t hesitate to hug her close as he put a paper towel to her mouth. “Just breathe.”

“This can’t be real.” Her voice was low, nearly a whisper. 

“I think that’s enough for this evening.” He pushed her hair back and wiped her face just as Amara came back in. He wrinkled his nose. “Nick, can you take her back home?”

“Yeah, sure. Meet back here?”

Mickey glanced at the clock. 8. “No man, I need to see Yev and we need to catch some sleep. Nearly 72 hours up, we need to start fresh tomorrow. Head home after.”

“Sure thing Mick.” 

Mickey helped her stand on her own while he pushed back more of her unruly hair. “Go home.” She nodded, looking at him like was going to fix it all and he damn well would. “Go be with your family, be there for them. I’m sure Yev will be there too.” More tears. “Try and rest up. This is going to be a rough ride but I’m, we’re gonna get you through it.”

She nodded and lurched forward to hug him. She hugged him like they were family and he hugged her back like he was too, petting the back of her hair and trying to say all the things he couldn’t.

“Be with your family and leave Ian to me. Okay?” she pulled back and nodded. And fuck if her face didn’t make him feel like bawling like a baby. It was gonna happen. More of a matter of when. Probably the moment he was at home.

“Thank you, detective.”

“Mickey ma’am, just Mickey.”

“Then just Fiona.” She squeezed his hand once more and followed the other one out.

“Christ.” Mickey mumbled and flopped down on the couch. He knew she’d get just as much sleep as he would; none. Not a damn wink. Too many bad thoughts, images. He had to deal with the photos, the details he didn’t share with her, not to mention dealing with Ian when he chose to appear. That part was fuckin weird.  
Mickey collected his things, pausing long enough for his Captain to order him to go home…like he had any other plans. He waved goodbye and left, nothing stayed at work these days. Nothing and he knew Ian would most likely make an appearance when he was at home and didn’t expect it.

**

His apartment was quiet when he arrived. It never was. There was always something on inside. Normally he would come home to Yev blaring his music, or Carl plopped on his couch with and endless stream of Call of Duty on the flat screen. Sometimes where would be food made. Yev knew how to cook and like every 16 year old, he was lazy with it. 

This time? Nothing. He opened the door and Yev's music was absent. The t.v. was dark, off and of course, there was no Carl this time. Probably not for a long time. No food either as he expected. He wasn’t that hungry in the first place. And no Yev. Or not that he could see. Mickey dumped his brief case into his office, along with his wet jacket and his keys before he went in search.

“Yev?” He knocked lightly on the door and within a few seconds, he answered. No red eyes or tear trails, nothing. Literally though, no emotion and that scared him. “Hey, you doin okay?”

Yev shrugged, unsure how to answer that. “You tell them?”

“I spoke to Fiona. I spent most of the day with her, talking.” He swallowed. “She wanted to be the one to tell them, so I had Nick take her home.”

“Yeah, I talked to him.”

Mickey leaned against the hallway. “You did? When? Why?”

“You didn’t call me after, I thought you had gotten caught up and he told me you were trying to get the chance to call.”

Well, that made sense. Yev was in a hurry to talk to them, the Gallagher’s. To his best friend and he had used Mickey’s partner to get the intel he needed. “Resourceful.”

Yev managed a smile. “You stayin, or just a drop by?”

“Staying. Been up and gone for 3 days.” Yev agreed, but not like he was mad. “You eat yet?”

“Naw, not hungry.”

“Yeah, me either but we are gonna eat somethin. I’m thinkin Chinese.” Yev nodded again and slipped back into his room but left the door open. Mickey left it too and went to order take out, delivery for sure. The snow had really started to fall, and it was dark, too dark. He didn’t want to get back in it. 

30 minutes, maybe 45 until chow time. It would give him time to settle in, possibly shower properly and start goin through the newly acquired information. Just because he was home, didn’t mean work stopped. Maybe later for a few hours but that was all he was willing to give.

After a quick shower and a change of his suit for a baggy pair of sweats and a long sleeved shirt. The shower really only made him more tired than he was. It relaxed his body, his aching muscles, made him warm and fucking tired. But he wanted to make sense of some of the information Fiona had given him.

He parked his ass in his office, all the paper information they had collected since this morning, laid out on his desk. It was still hard to look at them, still hard to think of Ian as gone, dead. To him, a part of him would always be alive. 

Tomorrow would lead to new evidence. They had to go check out Ian’s apartment, then his job, see if anyone had any concrete evidence about that asshole Raines beating on Ian. He was their number 1 suspect until he decided otherwise. They would also have to connect with Ian’s doctor, see if he confided in someone other than family.

The photo in his hand was the only one he could look at. The phone from the file. The one of Ian happy and smiling. He was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look for too long. But he couldn’t look away.

“Hmm, not a very good photo of me.”

Surprisingly, Mickey didn’t jump at the soft whisper of Ian’s words. He had been expecting him in a way. It had been hours since that brief glimpse in the morgue and even longer since their brief talk at the Gallagher house. 

There was also a type of calm that fell over him whenever Ian was around. The world fell away and the only thing he could hear was that soft whisper and any words Ian chose to speak. Few and far between and somewhat odd at times.

“I don’t know, I like it.” Mickey smiled and kept his eyes down on the picture. “You don’t think so?” 

The air changed behind him, just a slight shift. Hardly noticeable. Was he imagining it? Had he fallen asleep while waiting for the food? Maybe Ian was a dream. Someone he wanted to see right now. 

“No, whoever took that got my bad side.”

Mickey snorted. “Ian, I don’t think you have a bad side.” It was true, all of Ian was perfect. “Haven’t seen you in a few hours. You ok?” WOW, what a dumb ass question to ask someone who wasn’t there. But Ian didn’t agree that it was odd. He simply answered. 

“Okay as I can be. I’ve just been thinkin ya know? Try to make sense of some of this.”

Mickey set the picture down and swiveled in his chair until he could finally see Ian. Clearly this time. It wasn’t dim like before at his sister’s house. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. “You know that’s my job, right?” 

Ian smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose it is. But since I’m around, I figured I should help.”

And how fucking heart breaking was that? Poor kid. Wanting to help figure out what happened. God, it hurt his heart. “Why are you around?” Ian quirked his eyebrow. “How are you here?”

“Seems like you don’t want me here.”

Mickey shook his head, he could hear the amusement in his voice. “You know I do Ian. I just don’t understand why or how you are.”

“I don’t either really. And maybe I’m not here at all.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. 

“Maybe, I’m just in your mind.”

“You might be right.” He smiled and hopes it was the truth and a lie. “Maybe that’s why no one but me can see you. Like my partner, Yev, Fiona even.”

“Or, maybe I don’t want anyone else to see me.”

The thought made his heart pound something awful. He wanted Ian to want to see him. To talk to him. Maybe it was selfish to want it to only be him. Or maybe he really was crazy or asleep.

“How’s Yev doin?”

“He’s a little shocked. I didn’t realize Carl was your brother. Right now, he just wants to talk to them, to be there.”

Ian smiled. “He’s a good kid. I only saw him a few times, but I can tell.”

Mickey smiled. “Yeah, he is. I just hope he’s going to be okay. To be able to get through this, for him and for Carl.”

Ian walked forward and Mickey tracked every move like it would be his last. Ian had a habit of ghosting him at odd moments and without any word as to why. “So, Fiona told you about Zeppelin?”

“Yeah.” He growled and stood up from the chair. It was amazing how all that anger could come rushing in so quickly. “He’s my number 1 priority for tomorrow.”

“You get all cute when you’re angry.”

Mickey lost it immediately, anger replaced by mild shock. Cute? Ian called him cute. What did he even say to that? “I haven’t been called cute like…ever.”

Red eyebrows shot up. “Never?”

Mickey shook his head, watching as Ian paced across the floor. He wondered if he were to reach out, if his hand would pass through him. Like Amara's did. “No, never.”

“That’s really too bad.”

When Ian moved close to him, he thought he would stay put but Ian was clearly going to keep pacing and it was making him antsy. “Will you stop movin? You’re makin me nervous.”

Ian chuckled and the sound covered his body like an electric blanket.

“Sorry. I don’t even realize I’m doin it. I just feel restless all the time.” Ian sat on the edge of his desk, waiting.

“You and me both kid.” Mickey chuckled and glanced over. Ian was sitting exactly how he was. Perched on the edge of the desk. “This may sound odd…but I miss you man.”

Ian smiled. “I can tell.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, and Ian nodded. “How? Cuz I just now let myself admit that shit.” 

“Mostly it’s the way you look at me when I’m around. Like you’re afraid I’ll leave but you’re very happy when I come back. Even if it’s only for a moment.”

Fuck, his voice was soft again. Light. Like a feather or a wish. Soft and calming, grounding. Without it, it felt like he might drift away. “I am afraid you’ll leave again. I fuckin hate when you do. I feel alone when you leave. But the moment you come around, that shit goes away. Why?”

Ian shrugged. “I just know we are connected somehow Mickey. Maybe your brain conjures me up when you need someone. Maybe you just dream of me when you feel alone.”

Mickey pushed off the desk, hands in his hair, pulling it until he felt the stinging pain. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Ian was NOT here talking to him. A dream or he was just fucking crazy. 

Ian didn’t wait for his input after that. He pushed off the desk and turned to look through it. Not touching anything, if he even could, but scanning each page before he laughed a little and shook his head.

“I can’t fucking believe I was wearing that shit.” He pointed to his golden ass on full display. “Seriously though, who wants to see that?”

Mickey snorted at the sudden change from serious to light conversation and was fucking grateful for it. He can deal with the in depth shit of being crazy later. He glanced at the picture Ian saw and him, he wanted to see that. Fuck, not a good thought. Yuck.

“I’ve seen worse Ian. Much worse.”

“Yeah, but I never liked that shit.” Ian flipped off the picture. “I hope my family doesn’t see that.”

“Well, since they know where you worked, I’m sure they know the outfit.” He chuckled and flipped over the picture and Ian glanced at him with that smile. 

“Dad?”

Mickey looked passed Ian to see Yev standing at the open door to his office, his face set in a confusing look. Fuck, was Yev listening? Would he agree that he was crazy as well? God, he should have talked quieter and Ian was no help that fucker. He just kept smiling.

“Hey bud, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothin I guess.” He looked from side to side. “You have someone over?” 

Mickey clenched his jaw. “Nope, I never do. Why?”

“Just heard talkin is all.”

Mickey glared at Ian when he snorted out a laugh. “Just goin through the case is all. Some new shit came in today.”

“New shit? Good one Mick.” Ian smiled.

“Oh? Anything good?” Yev asked and walked in like he owned the place.

Mickey moved quicker and scooped the papers on his desk into a pile. “No way bud. You already saw too much earlier.” 

Ian nodded at him, a silent thanks for not letting Yev see. Mickey smiled at Ian while Yev looked around. He could tell his son had something on his mind. He never dropped into his office because he didn’t want to see any of it.

“You know, last year, I uh…, he chuckled and crossed his arms. “I kinda had this little crush on him.”

Mickey smiled when Ian did. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Ian snorted and flipped him off.

“I have no idea. We didn’t really speak much but whenever he was around, I couldn’t stop looking at him.”

Fuck, Mickey felt that. He felt that all the way down to his bones. “Yeah, he was…” he sighed and decided not to lie. “Beautiful.”

Yev nodded with his own smile. “He was just…fuck, I don’t know. Good?” he huffed. “Wrong word maybe. But he helped them all so much, whenever he could. Carl would tell me how hard he had it, but he would always be there.”

Mickey watched Ian shift closer to him and his eyes looked a little watery. Was Ian crying? Can ghosts dream, think…cry? “Fiona said the same thing. I think he tried to make the most of it.” Yev nodded. “And he deserved better.”

“Do you remember last year on the 4th of July, I went to Carl’s for that party?”

Mickey did remember because he had to work. No fun for him, no BBQ or fireworks or parties. No time with Yev. He’d felt bad until his son said Carl had something going with his family.

“Course I do.”

“I got fuckin trashed.” Yev smiled as he remembered. “God, it was awful. Never go to a Gallagher party.”

Mickey snorted, he remembered Yev being wasted. But it was his first time and he could forgive that. And he did. “I don’t think I will.” 

“That’s the time you almost met him dad, Ian.”

Mickey stopped smiling and looked at him with wide eyes. Ian shuffled next to him a little, getting closer to where the air shifted again. “Yev…I don’t think—”

“No, it was. He didn’t drink anything that night. Not a drop. Carl said it was his meds, but I didn’t know what that meant.” His voice was getting thicker, lump forming there. “He said he would take me home and Fiona came with us. I remember I was in the front seat and kept falling against him.”

“I remember this.”

Mickey glanced away from Yev to look at Ian. He wasn’t nervous or anything. He just looked wistful. Maybe he really did remember. “He seemed like a good guy.”

“I tried to kiss him.” Yev blurted, crying a little now. Silent. “I leaned in and tried but he stopped me.”

Ian nodded when Mickey looked at him. “It’s good he did.”

“Yeah, too drunk and I think he had a boyfriend.” Yev wiped his face and took a deep breath. “I remember thinking I wasn’t good enough. That maybe I didn’t measure up to what he was used to.”

“Yev, you gotta know that wasn’t it.” It was odd to talk about his son liking Ian like that. Mickey liked Ian like that…kinda. Maybe not like ‘that' but he wouldn’t deny their connection. 

“He told me it was because I was too young. Which I get, but even drunk that shit hurt.” Yev smiled at the memory now. Just happy Ian was in his life, even just a little bit. “He called me beautiful.”

Fuck, tears were coming to his eyes now. Mickey knew what it felt like to feel like you weren’t good enough. He knew the feel of rejection by the one you wanted. And unlike Ian, his ‘crush' didn’t call him beautiful. Ian was a fucking Saint and he wanted to scoop him up and hug him for making his son feel like that.

“I know that sounds weird, more so then it does now because he was older than me. But he was cool about it all. He didn’t make me feel stupid for liking him. He said I would find someone who was right for me. And he was sorry that it wasn’t him.”

Ian was silent and Mickey wondered if maybe Ian thought he crossed a line. Did he? As rejections go, it was top notch. Ian hadn’t been a dick about it or put Yev down. He lifted him up, told him he would find someone. Ian said what he would have said.

“Anyways, I was totally embarrassed and asked Fiona to walk me up instead.” He looked at his dad, willing him to understand. “Don’t you see? Because of me, of how embarrassed I was, you never got the chance to meet him.”

Mickey’s throat felt tight. He couldn’t argue with that, only that it wasn’t Yev’s fault. Just a choice. How were they to know a year and a half later Ian would be gone? 

“Bud, I may have missed him,” Ian shifted closer, “but you didn’t. And that’s okay. Fuck, it’s good that you knew him. Even better that he knew you. Don’t ever be sorry for that.”

Yev nodded. “I don’t even know what made me think of that.” 

“Doesn’t have to be a reason. If I could tell you half the shit I’ve thought about today, I’d be locked up somewhere.” 

The doorbell rang and Yev turned. “Probably the food. I’ll grab it.”

“Yeah, money’s on the table.” Yev nodded and left him alone with Ian again. He was so close to him now. An inch apart maybe. “Anything to add to that?”

“No, he covered it all. That was a weird ass night.” Ian chuckled. “Can’t believe we missed it. Ya know, meeting. Not sure it would have made a difference or changed anything, but it would have been nice.”

“Ian, it would have changed everything.” Mickey replied, keeping his voice low.

“I think he has a boyfriend…”

Mickey glared at him. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“Changing the subject.” Ian grinned. “You haven’t noticed anything odd about him lately?”

Had he? Was there anything to notice? It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “Okay, genius, what makes you think he’s got a guy?” his eyebrows lifted in challenge. Yev would have told him, right?

“He just seems like he has a secret. Not to mention the hickey under his chin.”

“He did not have a hickey.” Mickey glanced out the doorway, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see Yev but had to try anyway. “Not really though, right?”

Ian smiled. “My guess is that he’s older.” 

Okay, he was starting to get a little pissed off. If Yev had a boyfriend, why didn’t he know? Better yet, how come Ian could tell from just lookin at him that he had one, an older one? Was he that oblivious to shit like that? 

“You don’t know that.” Mickey grumbled and moved to close the door. Yev didn’t need anyone older. How much older? Was he his age? Yuck. Yev was only 16. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. I could be wrong.”

“How much older then?” he barked, unable to control his voice at all. “Why don’t I know about it?”

“Mick…”

He cut Ian off. “No, tell me. Why do you say older?”

Ian shrugged. “I dated guys older than me. Maybe I can just tell?”

Mickey grimaced. He really hoped it wasn’t too much older than him. “Okay, let’s just drop it. If he does, he will tell me when he wants.”

Ian nodded. “I’m just sayin…”

Mickey didn’t think before he acted. He rushed up to Ian and shoved his shoulder. “Just drop it kid!” Ian didn’t react, not at all. He just looked down and Mickey followed his gaze to see his hand resting flat against Ian’s shoulder. “Holy….what the fuck?” he jerked his hand back, eyes wide. Too wide. His hand felt weird where it had touched him. Not cold, but definitely less warm then before and it tingled all the way up his arm.

“You’re freaking out.” Ian huffed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“I’m—” he scuffed. “When Nick touched you, his fuckin arm passed through you like a damn Halloween cartoon and mine doesn’t?” 

“I guess not. I wasn’t sure if it would or not. But you haven’t tried to touch me.”

Did Ian not think this was a big deal? He just touched his arm. The arm of a dead guy. Like what the fuck? How? Why? Why not Nick? 

“Fuck, I can’t deal with this right now.” He rubbed his hand on his sweats, trying to get that tingling feeling to stop. “I must be more fuckin tired than I know.” He turned and yanked open the door, ignoring Ian as he stepped out.

“Mick!!”

He put his hands over his ears to keep Ian’s voice out but it’s like it traveled with him. Yev tried to hand him a plate and he shook his head. Mumbling something like ‘too tired' or ‘see you tomorrow' before he bolted down the hallway and into his room.

“I’m crazy…fuck, just crazy.” He shrugged off his shirt, clicked the light off and moved into his spot, blankets folded on his ribs. For the longest time, he just tried to breathe. He needed to get a damn grip. 

Ian was not real. Not anymore. There was no way he could see him. Dream him up, yes, wish he was alive, fuck yes. But talking to him like he was alive…wrong. Dead. Gone. He was crazy. 

Mickey turned over on his side, determined to think of anything else. It nearly worked, for about 15 minutes, he thought about Mandy. About Svet. Even Amara. It nearly worked. Until there was a dip in the bed, the unoccupied side of the bed. That familiar gush of air against his face, then Ian’s heavy sigh, still so quiet.

The open curtains allowed the moons glow to filter inside as he opened his eyes. Ian was in his bed, facing him, the blanket folded on his ribs, one hand under the pillow, the other flat against the sheet. Ian was in the same position he was in. Green eyes to blue. Red to black. With heavy minds and heavier hearts.

“Ian.” Mickey whispered.

“Mick.” Ian whispered back.

Sleep was coming quicker then he realized. His eye lids growing heavy as he faded in and out. Ian was so relaxing to be around. The bed shifted again until Ian’s forehead was pressed against his own, tingling. It felt good, safe and warm. Like nothing could harm him.

“Don’t leave.” Mickey mumbled, eyes closed. The hand that wasn’t under his pillow reached out in the dark until it found Ian’s, linking their hands together. 

“I won’t.” Ian whispered, his voice barely there. “Just sleep Mick.”

Mickey nodded and squeezed Ian’s hand. Ian squeezed back just as his eyes shut for the last time that night. Ian wasn’t going to leave. He wouldn’t be able to deal with it if he did. Somehow, he needed Ian now a lot more than Ian needed him.


	4. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little complicated for Mickey and Ian's case takes a turn

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 4- Complications

Mickey was still shaken from the dream. Even hours later from having it. It stayed with him. Fogging his mind, curbing his ability to focus like he needed to. Neck deep in an investigation, possibly a dangerous one considering he was with Amara in Boystown, searching for an asshole who hits the people he cares about, but that dream took up his entire concentration.

“Fuck.” He grumbled and lit another cigarette as he waited for Amara. Mickey decided last night that he wouldn’t step foot into The Fairy Tale. There was no reason to do it himself, that’s what he had a partner for. Too bad it gave him more time to think about this morning.

¤¤

It was the 4th of July and Mickey was up to his elbows in barbecue sauce as he flipped a few steaks on his grill. Amara was seated with his wife at the large patio table in front of the 2 story house. The sound of fire works loud in the darkening sky, making it a nearly rainbow color, how fitting. 

Beer bottles clanked together as they talked and laughed about anything and everything. It was nice, calming and he wasn’t at work for once. The only thing missing was Yev. He had gone to a party at Carl’s house, probably drinking and smoking but Mickey trusted him to be responsible with it. 

Things were as they should have been. Calm and fun, not a care in the world unless they ran out of beer. Mickey couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend the holiday. Mickey was well on his way to being buzzed by the time a strange car pulled up outside his house. He parted from Amara and his wife to walk down the driveway. The passenger door and Mickey had never seen much an attractive man before. Nearing 6 foot 1, wide shoulders, sparkling green eyes and bright, wild, unforgettable red hair. 

He blinked dumbly for a minute or two. Trying to decided if this image was real or his alcohol induced mind was playing a cruel trick on him. When that image offered him a dazzling smile, he nearly fell apart. 

“Mickey, right?”

Fuck, even his voice sounded as incredible as he looked. “Yeah, who’s askin?”

Red smiled and offered his hand. “Ian, Carl is my brother.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose when he hand did. The moment their hands touched they were bound together somehow. The handshake was over but neither took their hand way. 

“Yev okay?”

“He’s not hurt if that’s what you mean.” Ian chuckled and thumbed towards the car. “Drank too much so I dove him back.”

Mickey nodded but hardly heard him. He stared down at their hands, still linked and energy buzzed through them. “Thank you.” 

Suddenly Amara was lifting a passed out Yev from the back seat and taking him up to the house. Mickey hadn’t moved an inch. He stared down at their hands, then up to see Ian smiling at him.

“You’re beautiful.” 

Mickey blushed and turned away for a moment. When he was brave enough to face him, Ian was closer, up in his personal space. 

“I’m going to kiss you.” Ian leaned forward.

Mickey should have pulled away. He didn’t and those pink lips were about to land on his own…

¤¤

Mickey physically flinched as steeped out of that memory again. It was wrong. He knew the dream was a bad misrepresentation of the story Yev had told him, his brain had altered certain facts, inserted himself in place and the end result lead to them kissing. It was still wrong. 

He had woken up in the dark, shaking like a leaf. His body slick with sweat, shivering, panting, possibly running a fever. Totally freaked the fuck out. Part of him was desperate to get back to that dream. To find out how that kiss would have felt, to be able to have the chance to know Ian, to meet him. 

Just as the tears began to fall, strong, lightly freckled arms had come around him and Mickey buried his face into the crook of Ian’s neck. His entire body tingled everywhere they had touched. And he cried. Mickey let himself cry, finally after this entire emotional roller-coaster he managed to hop onto. And Ian had helped him through it. Rubbed his back, wiped away his tears. Told him he wasn’t crazy, that he was really there for him. But only for him.

Mickey put his right hand up and looked at it. Looking for any signs that he had actually been able to touch Ian. To hold his hand as he fell asleep. It looked the same, like nothing ever happened. And maybe it hadn’t, whether or not he was crazy was still out with the jury. Maybe by the end of this case, he would know for sure. 

“Get a fuckin grip.” He hissed at himself and dropped his hand. Just looking at it like an idiot wasn’t going to fuckin help. This shit with Ian and him…touching, fuck that sounded gross, would have to wait until later. He was deck deep in shit with no shovel. 

“Hey!” 

Mickey looked over to see Amara jogging across the street and silently thanked whoever the hell had been listening. “Find anything out, or did you get a dance or two while I’m freezin my ass off?”

Amara chuckled. “As tempting as the dances are, no. I have enough on my plate to go and pay for that shit.”

“Still steppin out on Nina?” Mickey tried not to get mad. One day wouldn’t make Nick snap the fuck out of it and go home and it was stupid to think it would. “Fuck forget it. What’d you find out?”

“Not much. The ex, uh…Zeppelin Raines, was booted months ago. Got handsy with one of the dancers, the owner confirmed that dancer was Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey nodded. “Handsy how?”

“According to the owner, a crowd saw Raines backhand Ian right on the floor. He was giving a dance to some guy and Raines had a problem with it. Raines was fired and booted.” 

White hot anger filled him again, as it did with each time, he heard about that asshole hitting Ian. Mother fucker. “Did Ian leave after, maybe Raines caught up to him?”

“No, Gallagher powered through his shift, sporting a nasty black eye but he did manage to punch Raines before he took off, split his lip.”

Mickey smiled. “Please tell me you got his new work address? They are searchin him as we speak but I really wanna jump on this quick.”

“Sorry man, that was months ago, and Raines was never seen here after that.”

Temporary failure washed over him. Disappointment as well. But it was a blessing in disguise. One that kept him out of jail. “Guess we can’t get that lucky. Anyone else in there have an issue with Ian? Co-workers or bosses, anything?”

“Sorry again man. Seemed this kid was well liked here. Showed up on time, left on time, did his job…rather well since they said he was asked for all the time. He never makes waves and seemed happier when Raines stayed away.”

Mickey stubbed out the cigarette with his boot and blew the rest of the smoke up into the cold air. “So all we know for sure is what we knew already? Fuck. Well, at least we have more evidence on Raines if it comes down to it. We need to pull his sheet and get him down to the precinct.”

Amara nodded and walked to the drivers side. “So, back then? It won’t take the boys long to get him there."

“Probably but I wanna check out Ian’s apartment. Gotta be somethin there to lead us in the right direction, in any fuckin direction.” He slammed the door and stared out the window.

“So, split? I can look over assholes sheet and you hit the kids house?”

Mickey nodded. He had planned on that anyways but hadn’t voiced it. “Yeah, probably not a good idea to be around that prick right now. Just take us back and I’ll get my car.” 

“Sure thing man.” A silence passed between them before he spoke up again. “You been okay Mick? Last night I mean.”

Mickey looked him, eyebrows dancing on his hair line. “Yev told you, didn’t he?” Amara didn’t answer and he didn’t need to. “Didn’t realize you and my kid conversed so much about me. Sharin secrets like a bunch of old men.”

“Yev’s just worried Mick. You know how he is. Not to mention he has a personal connection to this. He’s gonna be worried when you get all closed up like you always do.”

He hated to admit it, but Amara was right. He was doing his best to keep a lock down on this. On all his emotions towards Ian, towards all of it. “I get it okay? I’m a depressive bastard on the best days. And now…shit. Just make sure he’s okay, yeah? He does better talkin to you anyways.”

“Anything you need Mick.”

**

Ian’s apartment was not what you’d expect from a 22 year old go-go dancer/stripper who lived in the South Side. First of all, it was clean, neat and very homey. One large studio apartment that had more than enough space for Ian. 

Mickey walked in immediately feeling comfortable, at home. It should have felt odd, cold and empty but he could see and feel Ian everywhere. The kitchen was clean, filled with healthy food he would need to keep up his figure for being a stripper, the couch looked worn, but soft, as did the army printed blanket tossed over the back. A glass of old coffee on the table between the couch and the tv. A few books and magazines piled up on the side, just in reach.

The bathroom, again, was clean. Small but clean. A quick check in the cabinet let Mickey see all the pill bottles lined up, ready for duty. Strawberry shampoo in the shower made him smile, it suited Ian. Not that he would know. It just did. More books stacked on the back of the toilet. Apparently, Ian liked to read all over the place.

Mickey avoided looking in the corner to the king sized bed against the window. Big enough to lay 4, both ways. Fluffy pillows, dark bedding still disheveled from sleep. A single book on the far right night stand, a half empty glass of water and an unopened pack of smokes. Life interrupted.  


It felt wrong to snoop. Just walking around, not touching anything felt wrong. It would be like goin through Yev's stuff or Yev digging into his room. Invasion of privacy. But he needed answers. Ian needed them and Mickey would rather it be him looking than Amara. 

“Sorry about this kid.” Mickey mumbled and half expected Ian to appear like a damn ghost, but the kid had been MIA since his freak out early this morning. 

It didn’t take long to search the entire apartment. The kitchen was no help, aside from take out menus and some granola, nada. The living area about the same. Crap tv channels set to favorite, a couch that looked too comfortable. The bathroom gave him answers he already had; the meds. 

The night stand, both of them actually helped a little more than the rest of the place. On Ian’s side, held some info, not all helpful. A few spank bank mags, the bottle of lube was expected, condoms too. A pile of photos, some from school, early years. A cute freckled baby face smiled up at him, with family and friends. Smiling and laughing. Then as him older, some of the freckles faded, baby fat smoothing to reveal a soon to be firm jaw line. 

Parties and growing up happy. No signs of him being am unhappy child, despite his parents. Older photos of Ian in ROTC uniform, red hair buzzed to his skull. That same dorky smile. It warmed his heart to see how happy this kid was. Holidays and long weekends, Gallagher parties. A few boys started to show up. Handsome ones.  


Boyfriends. 

Mickey smiled. Happy that Ian had been so out, so confident. Gay boy in the South Side, happily taking pictures with his boyfriends. He would have given anything to feel like that about himself. To be out and proud and try to be happy. 

Ian grew up right before his eyes. Holding a neatly framed High School Diploma. Surrounded by the Gallagher kids. Fiona, crying as only a mother would. All happy, all smiling. Ian in his ugly colored cap and gown. The next one was perfect, Ian lip locked with his boyfriend, trying to shield their faces with the diploma and failing.

The pictures didn’t help. Not in the slightest other than drawing him in deeper. A glimpse into the life of someone he would never meet. Mickey put them back inside and pulled out a ripped up photo that was stuffed in the back. He could see Ian’s hair mixed with another man with dark brown hair.

Maybe this was Zeppelin. Mickey had yet to see a photo of that asshole, but he was certain this must be him. Ripped meant over. Ian seemed the type to burn or rip photos after breaking up. Toss out clothing too maybe. 

“Kid…” he sighed and closed that drawer before moving to the other one. “Gimme a hint here huh? You can’t be this squeaky clean.”

“No? Well, why not?” Ian huffed.

Mickey grinned and looked up to see Ian leaning against the kitchen counter. Arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed, he was pouting. “Well, well, look who decides to show up.”

“Yeah, sorry Mick.” Ian softened and ran a hand through his hair. “Would you believe I got busy?”

“Not bloody likely Ian.” Mickey smiled anyway but didn’t move from his seated position on the side of the bed. “You okay? Sorry if that shit last night freaked you out.”

“I’m fine Mickey. Bad dreams aren’t enough to bother me. And I was there for a second, in your partners car, but when you got there, I couldn’t stay.”

Mickey’s smile dropped. So, Ian had been there. He felt him at some point, a brief change, a brief reprieve. “Yeah, I thought you were. And don’t worry, I didn’t wanna be there either.”

“Was he there?” Ian asked quietly, not looking up.

“No, he wasn’t. Your work didn’t paint a pretty picture of him though. But they loved you.” 

Ian smiled but didn’t speak up. Mickey took a second to just watch him. He looked the same as he did last night, bright and happy. Or, not sad. Green eyes caught him staring and Mickey looked away, moving to rifle through that second drawer. 

Something dark grey and shiny caught his eye and he looked up at Ian. The gun was just laying there in plain sight. Mickey picked it up and noticed the serial number was shaved off. Probably bought illegally or stolen. 

“Why do you have a gun Ian?”

“Because we live in Chicago. In case you didn’t notice, this is a bad part of town.” Ian smirked.

“Yeah, that’s true. Stolen or bought illegally?” he set it down on top of the nightstand.

“Probably both. I bought it but who knows where it came from.”

Mickey nodded and kept digging into the drawer. It didn’t surprise him to find a bong inside, along with a small bag of what was probably weed, a lighter and rolling papers. “Does it help?”

“Does what help?” 

Mickey looked over to see Ian sitting on the end of the bed. His voice had sounded closer. “The weed. Does it help with the bipolar thing?”

Ian shrugged. “I guess it did. Less anxiety and that really helped. Mostly it just relaxed me enough to sleep.” Ian laid back on the bed, not making a sound.

The sheets didn’t shift, the bed didn’t creak like when he moved an inch or breathed too hard. It was odd because last night, the bed actually moved when Ian crawled into his bed. The sheets rustled also. Did he have to focus to make Ian more…real? 

“You’re staring.” Ian mumbled as he looked up and grinned. “Kinda creepy Mick.”

“Just tryin to get the hang of this shit.” He turned on the bed, so he didn’t have to crane his neck to look at him. “When you sat down, the bed didn’t creak like it did with me. The sheets didn’t move an inch, even when you laid back.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well I did.”

“That’s cuz you’re a big bad detective Mickey.” Ian grinned and rolled on his side.

The bed still didn’t make a sound. Curiosity was pissing him off. Ian was close enough that he reached out and touched the arm that was closest to him. Just a light touch, his fingertips barely touching his cooling skin. Ian didn’t react with anything besides a smile.

“Okay, so this is fuckin stupid, so humor me.” He huffed when Ian grinned at him. “Shut up.”

“So mean. I didn’t say anything.”

“No but your face did.” He chuckled and thought above shoving him a little, the asshole. “Seriously though, move again. Keep us touching but just…I didn’t know…move?”

Ian nodded and moved forward a little. His legs shifting on the bed. Mickey could hear the sheets moving with him. The bed gave that creak of protest as well. Mickey released a breath he’d been holding. So, the more he touched Ian, the more real he seemed. Only problem now, was Ian was very close to him. That red hair almost grazing his bent knee.

“What did that prove?”

Mickey shrugged and didn’t take his hand off Ian’s wrist but moved his thumb back and forth against it, soothingly. “I have no idea. You just seem more…alive, real when we touch.”

“I feel more real when we touch.” Ian’s voice was soft as he laid his head down.

“Yeah? How?” Now his voice was soft, currently aware of Ian’s head pressed against his knee. 

“I feel more around you. Not just emotions but everything.”

Mickey hummed and took his hand back and the moment he did, he felt colder, more distant. His hand hovered over Ian and slowly moved down to touch his hair. Lightly at first, to see if Ian reacted, his forehead moved slightly, rubbing against his knee. Mickey let his hand drop all the way and soft, red strands threated between his fingers.

“That feels nice.”

Mickey smiled and slowly moved through his hair. “Tell me more, about what you feel.” Okay, so maybe he was looking to find out that he wasn’t the only one getting messed over this. That the feelings, whether they be good, bad or confusing as all hell, that he wasn’t alone with them. 

“At your place, last night, I could feel the heat kick on. It was warm, nice because I usually don’t feel anything. Then, in bed, I could feel you.”

Mickey blushed and felt like a total creep. The whole last sentence sounded wrong, but it was accurate. They had been in bed. “Do you feel that tingling thing too?”

“Mine is more like a buzz. And I like it.” Ian chuckled and it sounded tired. “I felt warm again, but like warm inside. I felt happy.”

Happy. Happy was good. Even dead, he deserved to be happy. Mickey gave a little hum and kept raking his hand through Ian’s hair. Mickey didn’t know if he was happy. Not happy over all. Just…just being. Breathing. Moving through every day without any care how it turned out. 

“Why aren’t you happy?”

Had he said that out loud? Or was Ian in his mind now? “Who said I wasn’t happy?”

“You did Mick.” Ian moved closer, bringing his legs up onto the bed and nearly curling around Mickey’s knee. “You said you felt better when I’m here. That means when I’m not…”

“I don’t know how to explain Ian. I’m not miserable.” Mickey shook his head and should have kept his mouth shut. “Fuck, I’m happy. Yev makes me happy. Amara is a dick, but he makes me laugh and shit.”

“And he is very handsome.” 

“Oh, is that right?” Ian nodded. “Fine, I see how it is. Mister tall dark and handsome.” He smiled because it was true. Amara was a damn catch. “So, I am happy.”

“Maybe you need a boyfriend.” Ian suggested, his voice serious again.

Mickey’s hand paused, halfway stroking his hair. “I don’t think I mentioned being gay.”

“You don’t have to Mick. I can tell.” Ian touched his knee. “So, don’t get all huffy like you’re thinkin about doin.”

Well, fuck. If this kid didn’t know how he was, then no one would. He was about to get all huffy and fight about it. But why? He was gay. He did want a boyfriend or someone serious enough to stick around. 

“I barely have time for my kid Ian, how the hell do I have time for guy?” He resumed petting his hair. 

“You make time for me.”

Mickey froze but willed himself to keep his hand going. Ian seemed to like it and he found it soothing as well. He could feel how soft it was, smooth as it passed through his fingers. He did make time for Ian. Like now. He was working, he was supposed to be anyway. Instead, he was lounging on a bed with Ian curled around his leg…talking.

“You’re different.” He sighed, feeling very tired all of a sudden. These talks with Ian, as amazing as they were unique, it took a lot out of him, emotionally. “It’s easy to sit and talk with you. You don’t bitch like they would, or demand shit I can’t deliver on. It’s just easy.”

“You have to go, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Ian rose up enough to look at him.

“I do. As much as I would love to stay here and talk, I gotta catch the bastard who…” he couldn’t say the rest. But Ian knew. He knew too well. “You wanna come with me?”

“Where?” Ian sat up and Mickey’s hand fell away.

“Gotta talk to him Ian. You know I have to.” 

Ian nodded. “Go ahead. I don’t wanna see him.”

Mickey understood that all too well. It was always hard to face the guy who hit you. He still didn’t like coming face to face with Terry and that was over 15 years ago. Some pain just never went away. “You don’t have to. Maybe I’ll see you later?” He asked, eyebrows raised in expectation as he stood.

Ian grinned and laid back on the bed, right where he had been sitting. Mickey no longer heard the sounds, not the sheets or the bed. Nothing now that they no longer touched. Fuck, it was cute anyway. And it shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

Mickey walked away from the bed, keeping his eyes on Ian the entire time until he reached the door. He didn’t want to go, he really fucking didn’t. Inside this room, it was easy, safe. He loved it. But outside was the world, ready to beat him down at every turn. Finding new ways to push him. 

“Bye Mick.”

Mickey smiled once more as he let the door close behind him. Maybe Ian would just stay here in his apartment. Maybe Ian would go back to his apartment instead. Or maybe Ian just failed to exist unless they were together. Either way, he didn’t have the answer and wasn’t sure he wanted one.

**

“Don’t even say it asshole.” Mickey barked as he flopped down at his desk. Amara had that look, the one that said he was late as all fuck. Like he didn’t know.

“I didn’t say shit Mick.” Amara smiled, acting like he didn’t care. “Find anything useful?”

“Not a damn thing. The apartment was no help. Found a gun though, unregistered, probably bought it off the damn street. Some weed too but that’s hardly helpful.”

“Kid had a gun huh? Maybe he was worried about the ex?”

“It’s a possibility.” Mickey shrugged off his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows and lost the tie. “Anything new come in?”

“Yeah actually. Mags gave us an official time of death. Around 4:40 Sunday morning. Now, we didn’t find him until yesterday, Thursday morning so he was kept somewhere for 4 fuckin days.”

Mickey flinched. “His work had him scheduled to work Sunday and his shift would have ended around…what? 3:30?” Amara looked over the paper and nodded. “So, the last place anyone saw Ian was at work.”

“That seems to line up. I can go back and ask around, or call. A time helps us gather more info. I can see if The Fairy Tale has any surveillance outside the club.”

“Damn good place start. He wouldn’t have even had time to make it home before 4:30. So it had to happen just after he left or in transit home.” Mickey was thrumming with newly found energy. “Anything else?”

“Mags also pulls prints, as you know, ran them but go no hits. Perp doesn’t have a record but if we have a suspect, we can compare his prints.”

Mickey stood, eager to see if they had gotten Raines' prints. “And the ex? You 10 card him yet?”

Amara handed him Ian’s file, or what they had so far. “Wanted to catch you up and figured you’d wanna do the honors.”

“Damn right I do.” Amara handed him another file, Raines. “Got anything interesting in here?”

“Oh yeah, this guy is all around bad news Mick. A record a mile long from the time he could so serious damage. School fights, stealing, vandalism, petty theft.”

“All when he was young right?”

“Yup. He didn’t grow out of that shit either. The fucker embraced it with a damn smile. Most of this shit he was never convicted of. Witnesses backed out and he always had an alibi at the time. No evidence. It was always something.”

Wow, and Ian was with this guy? Ian didn’t see the type to do any of that. Ian was good and sweet, what was he doin with a joker like Raines? 

“The few he did get tagged with were bad, but he got minimal punishment. First, domestic violence. Not with Gallagher but his previous boyfriend. Light stalking, threats of violence. The ex went to the police who only issued a restraining order against Raines. No evidence.”

Mickey scuffed. “Figures. Assholes like this always get away. What else?”

“Drunken disorderly conduct, no surprise there. I’m sure that shit at The Fairy Tale was mild compared to the rest. He faced a hefty fine and 6 months in lock up.”

“This with Ian?” He clenched his jaw.

“No, same ex. Before Ian. Kids name was Riley James.”

“Was?”

Amara nodded and opened another file on his desk. “Yeah, James was found dead in his dorm room, suicide.”

“Fuck!” He rubbed his face. “This shit just keeps getting better.” He looked down at the photo of another smiling kid and felt the need to puke. “How long after Raines got out did this kid die?”

“Report says 2 days. But nothing suggested that it was anything other than suicide. Left a note and everything but we are smart enough to know it’s because Raines got out.” 

This was a fucking mess. 2 kids, 2 lives, ruined by the same asshole. 2 kids taken away from the people they loved so this guy could have what he wanted. Raines had driven James to kill himself, now Ian was found dead and they had bad history together? 

“Get a warrant for those surveillance tapes so we can put Raines there. He had something to do with this. If they put him there just before time of death, that’ll get us a warrant to search his place.”

Amara reached for the phone and started making calls. Mickey grabbed all three files, Raines, James and Ian’s, just about to go have a chat with him until Yev walked in. “Hey bud, what’s up?”

Yev walked past Amara, putting a hand on his shoulder in greeting as he walked by. “Just wanted to stop by.”

Mickey nodded and set the files down and perched on the edge of his desk as Yev took the chair. “School called. You skipped?”

“It wasn’t intentional. I got there and Carl…fuck, he normally waits for me but obviously he wasn’t there, and I couldn’t…”

Mickey put a hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, I get it. You go see them?”

“It’s bad dad, like really fuckin bad.”

He knew it would be. A family like that, close with each other, no parents, harsh times…all of that was enough to form a bond no one could break. Until it did break, until one of them was taken; Ian. And what made it worse was that now Yev was suffering. 

“I’m going to find out who did this.” His voice was absolute. He would find him, them, or her, if it was a her. Mickey would find who did it. “You hear me Yev?” He waited until watery blue eyes met his. “I’ll make it right.”

Yev nodded. “I believe you, but will it really help? Will it make them feel better?” his dad didn’t say yes. “It won’t bring Ian back dad. It won’t bring my best friends brother back. It won’t fix anything.”

“No, it won’t.” Mickey didn’t lie to Yev, there was no need. “Even when we catch them, if they get life or even death, it won’t help. It won’t bring him back. But it will make it so they can heal. Fuck, so they can try to live without him.”

“What if they can’t?”

“They don’t have a choice. It’s not fucking fair kid. It’s not fair that a good guy like Ian, one who loved his family, is gone and the fucker who killed him is out there.” 

Fuck, now he was losing it. Emotions bubbled to the surface fast and he couldn’t blink back that one tear that feel and Yev had been looking at him as it happened. 

“Dad…”

Mickey shook his head as if to say ‘don’t worry' but Yev was already out of his seat and pulling him into a hug. For a moment, or maybe a dozen of them, he just stood there. Arms at his sides, his cheekbone resting on Yev’s shoulder because the asshole was taller than him, unmoving. He didn’t know what to do. Hug back, hug his son in the middle of a crowded police precinct, to show all that emotion and lose respect from his peers. Or to not hug, to reject the affection and feel that awful hate inside himself for denying his son this moment. A moment to offer comfort when Yev had no idea why it was needed. A moment Mickey wished for a moment he had with his own father. 

And there he was. Leaning up against the window as it snowed. Behind Yev’s back so when Mickey looked up, he saw red hair and watery green eyes staring at him. The emotion doubled, tripled, pulling him into that trap. With a curt nod from Ian, Mickey wound his hands around Yev’s back and squeezed, hard. Too hard. But Yev hugged him back. One hand moving up and down his back like he was the child. 

“Alright…alright…” Mickeys sniffled as he pushed Yev back playfully. “Can’t be catching those feelings right now. I got work to do.”

Yev smiled. “Yeah, sure. But we aren’t done with this.”

Mickey scuffed. “Yes the hell we are. Why don’t we talk about whoever gave you that?” He pointed under Yev's chin with eyebrows raised high. He was half teasing, half serious. 

“Shit…uh, it’s no one.”

“Bullshit!” He shook his head. “Don’t gimme that shit bud. It’s a waste of time.” Mickey glanced at the window, not surprised to find Ian gone. Maybe he did just appear when he needed him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Mickey groaned. This was never his strong suit. Svet usually handled the sex shit, no surprise why. Short and simple was usually the best route. “How old?”

“Around 20…”

Mickey let out the breath he held. Over 3 years wasn’t bad…

“20….5 maybe.” Yev mumbled.

Mickey’s head snapped up. “25 ish, maybe? Yev, that shit ain’t even legal!” he wasn’t yelling but his voice was carrying enough for Amara to look at him, concerned. “9 years is…that’s just….you’re only 16.”

“Thanks, I wasn’t aware of that “ he dead panned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make it weird dad, please?”

“Man?” Yev nodded. He didn’t know why, but a woman would have been worse somehow. “What’s his name?”

“No fuckin way dad.” 

Mickey clenched his jaw. He knew all too well that strange fucking allure that older men had. He didn’t know if it was a damn super power or just because they were older, but they had it. It pulled you in, even if it wasn’t legal and until Yev turned 18, it wasn’t. Would getting mad and demanding answers make him a hypocrite? He had his fair share of illegal shit, but a father was supposed to want more for their sons.

“You think I don’t get it, the older guy thing, but I do.” He held a hand up when Yev went to talk. “And I know I’m far from fuckin perfect and did some dumb shit, but I almost didn’t crawl out of it.”

“I know dad. But it’s real, okay? I fuckin feel that it’s real. We aren’t hurting anyone.” Yev gave him wide eyes, pleading eyes.

“Every instinct is tellin me no bud. Every single one.” Mickey rubbed at his jaw, feeling the stubble starting to itch. “Safe?”

Yev nodded quickly. “Always dad.”

No was on the tip of his tongue. But what would happen? He would have a fight with him. They would both say shit they didn’t mean and couldn’t take back. The day would be fucked all to hell. His mood off set when he needed to focus. And Yev would still end up seeing this guy. 

“Fuck.” He groaned when Yev smiled. That slick fucker knew he had him. “Condoms kid, every fuckin time. Don’t gimme a fuckin excuse either. Put em everywhere if you need to.”

Mickey heard Amara laughing and turned to see him nearly doubled over, trying not to laugh. “Got somethin to say chuckles?”

Amara cleared his throat, blushing slightly. “Nope, not there with my kids yet Mick. Carry on.”

Mickey flipped him off. Bastard was never helpful.

Yev snorted. “I don’t think all that is necessary but fine. Thank you.”

Mickey shook his head. Thank you? Thank you for letting him fuck some guy with nearly 10 years on him? No way he was gonna comment on that. Parenthood was all about picking your battles. “Fuck off with your thank you.” Yev grinned again. “Headed home?”

“Yeah, just wanted to check in.”

“I’m good Yev. Just in the middle of it. But I’ll try and swing by later okay?”

He really tried to keep his promises. Always had when it involved his son. Go to each play when he was younger, talent show, field trip to the zoo, Christmas party, dances. Yev wasn’t involved in all that shit now, mostly basketball since kid was so damn tall. Thank you, Svetlana. But he went to each game, parents night when he was asked, when he said he would be home, he would be. Even if it was only for a moment.

“Just don’t die, yeah?” Yev joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mickey flipped him off. “You goin to your moms this weekend again?”

“I was until all this shit. I think I’m gonna stay here if that’s cool. Wanna be there for Carl and them.”

Mickey nodded and pride swelled inside. He did a damn decent job at raising his kid. Fuck all what Svetlana said. Bitch. “You know it is. Just let her know, not in detail.” He pegged Yev with a hard look. She didn’t need any details of this case or any other. “Just the basics. She can call me if she has a problem.”

Yev grabbed his bag and backed away to the door. He lightly clipped Amara's elbow with his bag, bumping papers onto the floor. The result was a cluster of Spanish curses flying his way. “See ya later dad. Bye Nick.” 

Amara picked up the papers, balled up a blank one and chucked it until it pegged Yev’s blonde head. “Stay safe kid!”

Mickey laughed. That Nick thing still threw him, but the accidental bump was a classic. “God, is this fuckin day over yet?”

“Don’t I wish.”

“Oh, before I head in there, did anything come back on Ian’s cell phone?”

Amara nodded, pushing papers around his messy desk to find the right one. “Yeah, normal shit. List of long numbers, dialed mostly family, a few listed other than family, friends I assume.”

“Nothing concerning?”

“He has a hefty amount of private incoming calls. Or no numbers listed at all. It shows most he ignored and some he answered but it never went over 2 minutes so probably a prank call or a wrong number.”

“You said Raines got popped for mild stalking, right?” Amara nodded. “Maybe he was tryin with Ian too. Callin him from unlisted numbers. Could have Raines blocked.”

“Not a bad assumption Mick. I’m gonna see if we can have Archie trace those unlisted numbers. That little nerd should be able to do it way before you’re done grillin Raines.”

“Good. Make it snappy too. If Raines was stalking him, that makes it a pattern. And if he was at The Fairy Tale on Sunday morning, that makes him our best suspect.”

“Sure thing. Go get em tiger! Be careful though, we made him sweat it out and I’m sure he is a little pissy.”

Mickey grinned. “Good, this shouldn’t be a cake walk for him.” He grabbed the files off his desk again and walked the short distance down the hall to interrogation room number 1. It was a one way glass, so he pulled up the blinds and was very surprised what he saw.

The name Zeppelin Raines was a unique name and it fit this guy to a T. Mickey didn’t know what he expected but it was not this 6’2, 200 pound, tattooed guy with dark brown hair, a beard, several piercings on his face and probably a shit attitude.

Was this what Ian was into? Assholes likes this? This guy looked like an asshole. And from all accounts, he was but Mickey gave them reasonable doubt, but Jesus. He didn’t even want to think about the fact that Fiona stated her brother was a top…so he bent this fucker over? Or did Ian have to bottom? He didn’t like the thought of that. Too much like being forced.

Guys like this, the obviously attractive ones didn’t make him feel inferior…not at all….maybe a little…. It wasn’t that he was an unattractive guy, he had guys chase him for days for a piece. He did alright, but Ian was that next step in evolution. Hands down the best lookin guy he’d ever seen. Even if it was just though a picture. And Ian used to date this guy…it kinda made him feel a little uneasy.

Too bad he didn’t have a choice here. Looks aside, this guy was bad news. Not worth all the looks had to offer. He single handedly ruined at least one life, maybe two and Mickey was going to get him for it. Deep breath, shoulders back, head up, brick walls in place and all that anger from this entire case, he opened the door, meeting the bluest pair eyes he’d ever seen and shut it behind him.

Those eyes glared at him as he circled the table and set all three files on the table, tabs down so he couldn’t see the names. Mickey put both hands on the back of the empty chair and glared down at that smug, but handsome as fuck face. It made Mickey hate him even more.

“Last time someone looked at me like that…I got laid…”

God, even his voice was smug. Fuckin bastard. “Yeah, not gonna happen. But I do think after our long little talk here, you’re gonna get all the dick you need in prison.”

That smug smile slipped just a little and his tattooed fingers linked together. He was nervous, that was good. And while the smug bastard glared at him, Mickey took a moment to study his hands. His left one had a sizable bruise on the knuckles, the same as you might get when it collided with a cheekbone. 

“Nothin to say?” Mickey lifted his brows. “Good, glad I got your attention. Let’s start with telling me where you were on Sunday, say around 4:30 AM.”

Blue eyes shifted away from his own, he didn’t yank them down, more like they slowly pulled away. Guilty? He wasn’t sure. He never had a case be this cut and dry before and he expected a fight from Raines. He didn’t look the type to just roll over…metaphorically speaking anyways.

“Why’s it matter where I was?” 

“It matters Mister Raines, because I got a body and it has your name written all over it.” Mickey opened Ian’s file, laid down the picture of the body position and he only had 4 words to say to him.

“I want a lawyer.”


	5. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to progress for Ian in his usual state, he's more real when Mickey's around and Mickey learns that Ian might be seeing another man...a married man and doesn't know if he can handle it

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 5- Down the Rabbit Hole

Hitting pause was not something he was okay with, for anything. His interview with Raines ended the moment he asked for a lawyer and he would have to wait until they could speak again. Just when he’d been on the right track BAM!! Red police tape keeping him out. Giving Raines the excuse he needed to lie and come up with a better story. 

Fuck.

Blazing down the hall way, his colleagues parted like he was on fire and gave him a clear shot back to the bullpen. He slammed the files down, making Amara jump in his chair, that stupid phone pressed against his ear and made his way to the break room.

“Lawyered up huh?” Amara yelled, knowing the answer.

Mickey didn’t bother to stop and chat. He needed a break, some coffee, a little fresh hair and a damn cigarette. On any other given day, the row of coffee pots would be full, all 6 of them in a little line…empty. 

It felt like God had taken the biggest pair of scissors, lifted a big strong arm and cut the strings that held him together. Mickey sagged, elbows resting on the counter top, begging whoever was watching or listening to ease up and give him a break. Just a little one before all this shit crushed him.

“You don’t look so good.”

Fuck, now he wanted to cry. That sweet, feather light sound of Ian’s voice was probably the last straw. The hand on his shoulder didn’t help. It felt warm and reassuring and simple. Mickey glanced over to see Ian standing beside him, lips upturned in a small smile.

“I think you just insulted me.” He huffed out a laugh and rose up, leaning against the counter instead. Ian mimicked his stance, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Thought you weren’t gonna be here.”

“Said I wasn’t gonna be around him, and I’m not.” Ian smiled again. “I guess it didn’t go as well as you hoped it would.”

“It didn’t go at all Ian. He took one look at the crime scene photo and lawyered up. The guilty ones usually do.” Mickey mumbled, looking Ian straight in the eye.

This felt odd. Like a new couple talking about their ex's. Now, Mickey knew he had a few bad choices under his belt, but never one like Raines. It wasn’t his type. He liked them sweet, soft. Not a push over but compassionate. 

“You really dated that fucker?” he palmed his cigarettes, smoothing his fingers up and down the package. The need to talk to Ian was stronger than his need to smoke. If it was awkward for Ian to talk about this, it didn’t show. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all.

“Yeah, I did. In the beginning, he wasn’t like that. Or maybe he was, and he hid it until I was sucked in. Or I ignored it.” Ian turned and grabbed at the empty pot. 

Mickey watched intently, they were very close again, inches apart. He wasn’t sure if Ian would be able to move it or not. Until freckles fingers wrapped around the handle and smiled triumphantly at him. He smiled back and watched Ian fill it up and come back to start the coffee.

“I never used to be able to do shit like this.” Ian nodded to the pot. “When I first found myself able to walk around, I felt like that cartoon ghost you mentioned.”

Mickey snorted. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to do it either.”

“When you’re close I can. It’s fuckin weird but kinda cool.”

It was really fucking weird. Half the time when Ian was around, it was easy to forget he was dead. Ian was coming around more now, they would talk and touch sometimes. Apparently, Ian could make coffee now. It both scared him and gave him comfort. 

“Have you gone to see your family?” He smiled as Ian offered him the first steaming cup of coffee and took one for himself. They moved to one of the tables and sat opposite each other.

“No, I don’t think this works like that. Whatever this means… I can’t just float around freely.”

The cup in Ian’s hands turned cold quickly. The steam lasting about 5 seconds before it dissipated. He scooted closer to Ian, handed him his hot cup and got another one for himself. This time when Ian touched the cup, it stayed hot, steaming between them.

“So, where do you go when you’re not with me?” He lit the cigarette, willing to take the heat if someone busted him. The first hit made his shoulders relax, the second had his knee stopping that incessant bouncing and by the third one, he handed off to Ian, looking at him skeptical that he could take a hit.

Ian took a deep hit, held it until he laughed, and the smoke blew out his nose. “Wow, thank fuck I can smoke and drink coffee still. Even though saying that is fuckin weird.” When Mickey didn’t answer, he forgot about his question. “And I have no idea where I go. I’ve only been at this for 2 days.”

“Feels a fuck of a lot longer than that if you ask me.” He chuckled and rested his hand under his chin. “Would you want to see your family?” Ian sat up a little straighter. “You didn’t stick around long that first time and I do need to talk to them, all of them again.”

“At first it was hard to stay for long. Like I was on a timer or whatever.”

Mickey thumbed at his mouth. Eager to learn more about the rules of this coming and going thing. “I know you’re kinda new at this.” Ian chuckled. “But, what’s it like? In the beginning, you only showed yourself a few times. Then longer, then talking. And you seem to be remembering more each time.”

“The beginning was confusing. I didn’t know where was or who. I didn’t even know I was dead at first. But I kept coming back and it was always to you.” Ian looked over and smiled.

“I wonder why me and not your family.” He looked away, trying hard not to read into it as much as he already had.

“I don’t know. But it was always you. Each hour, each time I came back, I remembered more. Who I was, that I was dead. But hazy on the details. And the rules as you put it, I have no idea.”

It was true. It seemed to get stronger each time. Ian seemed more aware each time too. “The car thing freaked me out, the mirror.” He smiled when Ian chuckled, and it looked like he blushed because of it. “Then I would feel signs when you were there. Got a little colder, the wind changed. Small things.”

“Hmm, maybe I am a ghost.” 

“But then I could touch you.” Their eyes met. And they were right back in that bed, face to face. “You can’t touch ghosts Ian. Ghosts can’t make coffee or smoke anymore, so it’s gotta be something else.”

“Maybe the longer I’m here, the more I can figure out.” He offered with a shrug.

Mickey smiled. “Yeah, maybe. Let’s hope so.” He held green eyes a little longer before he got back on topic with their previous conversation. “So, your family, you wanna come when I go? At least you’d be able to see them.” Mickey had no idea if that was a good idea. It just seemed like he should ask. They wouldn’t be able to see Ian like he could but at least the kid could see them, be around them.

“Yeah, it would be nice to see them.” Ian smiled and rested his hand in the crook of Mickey’s elbow. “Thanks.”

There was that connection again and it was difficult not to rest his hand against Ian’s to feel more of it. “No problem man.”

He was doing it again, stepping away from work to lounge around all day and talk with Ian. It already went on longer than it should have and now that Ian seemed a little more aware this time, maybe he would have a few more answers. “I know I asked this shit before, but do you remember anything, about that morning? You left The Fairy Tale and never made it back home.”

“I thought about it after you left my apartment.” He took a deep breath and fiddled with the cup. “I remember that night clearly. I had my normal shift and I was supposed to get off at 3 but I didn’t.”

Mickey straightened his posture, ready for everything Ian could remember, every detail. Anything he could get that might help. He didn’t have his notebook but if Ian was telling him, there’s no way he’d forget. “When did you get off?”

Ian rubbed his head. “Closer to 4. I was beat and just pulled my jeans over my shorts and walked out.”

That explained the shorts, but they hadn’t recovered his jeans or shoes. Someone had taken them. “When you left, did you see anyone? In the parking lot maybe, lurking around? Maybe someone you recognized?”

“I saw a few regulars. They waved…but didn’t hassle me.”

This was good. This is what would have happened if Ian had been taken to the ER instead of the morgue. This was the victims statement he was never supposed to get. “How about Raines, did you see him there?”

Ian drew in his eyebrows, digging in deep to find the answer. “At one point, I thought I saw him there. I saw his eyes from the bar but when I looked away and back again, he was gone.”

The tapes Amara requested will verify that, hopefully they would catch him outside at the same time Ian was. “Do you remember anything after you left? Not the regulars, but anything else?”

“It gets a little blurry after that…” Ian jumped a little when he felt Mickey’s hand on his arm.

“We don’t gotta do this Ian. I can find out the answers another way.” 

“No, I want to help.” He laid his hand on top of Mickey’s and kept it there. “I didn’t have a car, so I had to walk to the L and catch a ride back.”

This was news as well. They knew Ian didn’t have a car, but there were a dozen ways for him to get home. He could have called a taxi, an Uber, a colleague could have given him a lift, and the L. But he didn’t even get that far. Or someone nabbed him in transit. 

“I know you said it gets a little hazy, but do you know long you walked before it gets too hazy?”

“Uh…It was cold, freezing. Snowing too. I remember humming a song…” he pinched his nose, right between his eyes. “But it gets too fuzzy to remember the whole thing.”

“Easy kid, don’t push it okay.” His arm moved from Ian’s arm up to his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. “You did good Ian. Really good.”

Ian looked at him, eyes wide. “I did, really?”

Mickey smiled. “Really. This helps more than you know.” 

“Mickey…”

Ian’s next word was cut off at the sound of someone coming in the door. Amara. Mickey jerked his hand back, not wanting to appear half as crazy as he felt and having his hang lingering in the air was odd. Amara narrowed his eyes as he walked over and Mickey cursed, see the two half empty coffee cups on the table, and he was all alone.

“You have company?” Amara asked as he poured his own cup and sat down.

Mickey pushed both cups away. That need to tell someone about this, to tell Amara more about it was strong. But it kinda felt like betrayal now. Ian wasn’t just a glimpse to him anymore. Ian was becoming a constant in his every day to day life. Not to mention Amara had Yev's ear. The last thing he needed was to have his son more worried then he already was.

“No, no company.” Mickey looked down to see the smoke still lit, laying on the table. It took him a second to realize that Ian wasn’t next to him anymore but staring out the window with an unreadable look on his face. “So, what’s up?”

“The warrant for those tapes should be here by the end of the day. If we find anything pertaining to Raines, we can search his place.”

Mickey nodded and from the corner of his eye he could see Ian flinch at the name. “Good, that’s good. In the meantime, we should probably talk to Ian’s doctor, see if she had any info that the family wasn’t aware of.”

“We better do it soon because I’m sure she isn’t open on the weekends.” 

“Start the car?” Mickey asked and Amara nodded and left with his coffee. Ian was still standing at the window, arms curled into his body again. He stood and dumped both cups of coffee before going over. “Pit stop before home. You wanna tag along?”

Ian looked at him, green eyes wide but a little darker than before Amara arrived. When someone else was around, their connection felt interrupted, maybe that’s why he felt so exhausted after. Maybe that’s why Ian looked like this, worn out, less bright than before. 

“Do you want me to?” his voice was soft, low. 

Mickey nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re cold.” It wasn’t a question and Ian nodded. He walked back to the table, grabbed the suit jacket he’d taken off and draped it on Ian’s shoulders. It was almost too small for him, Ian had wider shoulders, but Ian hugged it to his body before slipping his arms in.

“You won’t need it?”

What was it about seeing someone wearing your clothes that made you like it so much? Whatever it was, he felt it and that ever present ‘Ian warmth' he felt, amplified into a burn. 

“No, I’m good.” He smiled and ruffled Ian’s hair…why? He had no fuckin idea. “Looks better on you.”

Ian smiled but it didn’t last long. “Uh, at the doctor…you’re gonna hear some shit… some bad shit. And I don’t want it to—”

Mickey cut him off with another squeeze on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about any of that Ian. Nothing they say, nothing I learn or have already found out is going to change a damn thing. It won’t change how I see you.”

For a moment, Mickey thought he’d overstepped. It was only a matter of time before it happened, but they were building something, and he really didn’t want to ruin it. The moment Ian moved at him, his first reaction was to flinch, to expect a punch. A punch would have been less shocking than Ian’s long arms coming around him, hugging him.

It didn’t matter that Ian was taller, his head rested on Mickey’s shoulder, turned away from him. He slowly returned the hug, that tingle turned into a full blown thrum, like a beating heart, pulsing. It felt good. All of it. His face was pressed into the side of Ian’s neck, and his eyes slipped closed to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Thank you.” Ian mumbled into the top of one shoulder, his hands around Mickey’s back, fingers linked.

“Shit, for what?” 

“Just saying that.” Ian pulled back, holding the jacket closer. “Even my family had a hard time with all that shit. So did I.”

Without Ian close, he started to feel cold. God, this was just…odd. Confusing. Good. “Family is a blessing and a curse. They have a rough time with anything different, even if they love you.”

Ian nodded. “I can see that.”

“They don’t mean half the shit they say and usually regret it right after. Maybe your doctor can clear up a few things?” he offered, trying to comfort him any way he could. “If you gotta leave at any point, just know it’s okay.”

Mickey felt like a damn Hallmark card, being more sentimental towards Ian over 2 days than anyone else in his entire life. And he meant it. Ian stepped up to him after a moment and he thought there was going to be another hug, but Ian only lifted his hand and cupped the side of his face. His thumb rubbing over it softly.

“Thanks Mick.” Ian smiled and turned towards the door.

Mickey took a deep breath, touched his cheek to feel that lasting touch, and followed after him. Maybe seeing the doctor would give him a little insight as well, help him better understand all his unanswered questions.

**

The office of Doctor Anastasia Parker was modest, yet professional. A place where you would feel comfortable enough to have that professional feel, but you would be more open to talking in a friendlier setting. It was nice, clean, open. Plants in the corners, magazines and a small t.v. playing the news on low, large window with an amazing view of Chicago. They even have a small area for kids, toys and books. It was impressive.

While Amara waited at the front desk, Mickey stood by Ian who was near the window, his suit jacket still draped across this body. Of course the car ride had been silent since Amara was there, but Ian had kept a smile on the entire way, so it wasn’t concerning in the least.

“This place seems nice.” Mickey whispered, observing Ian’s face from the side.

“I liked it. More so than the others.”

“How many others?”

“3 or 4. They didn’t just feel right. Not bad or anything unprofessional but this made me feel calm.” 

Mickey nodded and turned away from Ian as Amara stepped up to his vacant side. “Well?”

“She’s with someone right now but they are wrappin it up.” Amara checked his watch and it was nearing 5. “Should be her last.”

Ian nodded, a little smile on his face. Mickey leaned to his left, gently bumping his shoulder. “Sounds good man. I hate doctors.” Ian chuckled beside him.

“Why do you hate them?” Amara chuckled as he huddled into his jacket. 

“They poke and prod and as a million of the same questions and all that other shit.” He shivered and it wasn’t from the lack of his jacket. “Just don’t like em.”

“Mick, this ain’t that kind of doctor.” 

“No?” Mickey lifted his eyebrows. “This one is worse. Gets into your mind, into your thoughts. Probably knows you better than you know you. I’m okay with keepin my shit to myself.”

“You can’t drink it away Mickey.” Ian leaned against his shoulder. “People have tried, and it is impossible.”

“Detectives?”

Mickey was snapped out of his thoughts of Ian being so close again, as the lady at the desk addressed them. Ian never moved. Just leaned against his arm, watching the day drag into night. 

“The Doctor will see you now.”

Mickey snorted, it sounded like a line from every police/doctor tv show he’d ever seen. Ian even seemed to pick up on it because laughed and went ahead of them, winding his way down the hall. Mickey hurried after him, Amara looking slightly confused because he seemed to know where he was going.

“Have you been here?”

Mickey shook his head and grinned to himself as he followed Ian. “Just have a hunch.” A few turns and a dozen doors down, Ian stopped at one but didn’t go to open it. Mickey quirked his eye brow when Ian just stared at him. “Oh, really now?”

Ian nodded, trying not to smile but one slipped through.

“Huh?”

Mickey shook his head and opened the door, letting his majesty go first. Him and that stupid adorable smile. “Nothin man. Let’s just get this over with.”

A very attractive woman stood as they entered the room, her hair a shade darker than her maroon dress. She didn’t need the make-up she wore, but it made her eyes seem so much darker. Ian was already sitting in one of three chairs, arms crossed, huddled into the jacket, his eyes not trained on the doctor. 

Mickey moved and took the hand that was offered to him, Amara as well and they each took a seat. “Doctor Parker, thank you for meeting with us so last minute.”

“Please, call me Anna. And it’s my pleasure. How can I help Chicago PD today?”

Mickey adjusted his leg, so it was lightly pressed against Ian’s and he heard Ian let out a content sigh. “What can you tell us about Ian Gallagher?”

She smiled right away. “Ian is one of my very best patients. Such a wonderful young man.”

Ian smiled and Mickey saw it. Everyone thought Ian was wonderful. Maybe because he was. “Can you tell us the last time you spoke with him?”

“I want to say it was last Friday. But as you know I can’t say very much, doctor-patient confidentiality.” She gave a sympathetic smile. “Can I ask what this is about?”

Mickey nodded. “That confidentiality no longer exists Doctor, Ian is deceased.” The urge to reach out and comfort Ian was getting stronger with each time they were together. Soon, he probably would be able to resist altogether. 

Anna put a hand over her mouth, eyes watery and eyes questioning. “Oh, no. A-are you sure it’s him?”

“We made a positive ID ma’am.” Amara handed over the picture from Ian’s file, the one of him smiling.

“What happened?” her voice shook as she asked, staring down at the picture.

“That’s what we are here to find out. Can you tell us about Ian?” Mickey encouraged, Ian had stiffened next to him.

Anna wiped her face and put the picture down. “What do you need to know?”

“We understand that Ian was bipolar.” Anna nodded. “And from his sister, we know that he was taking his meds.” She nodded again. “But she seemed to think he was on the brink of an episode when she saw him last Saturday. Can you confirm that?”

Anna nodded and dug into her desks file cabinet to retract Ian’s file. “He was afraid the cocktail of meds he was on were no longer working. He wasn’t scheduled to come see me until 2 weeks from today, but he set up that emergency appointment.”

“Is there a reason his meds didn’t work?” Amara asked as he jotted down that bit of information.

“Bipolar disease is trial and error detective. Some meds work for some while others don’t. Sometimes the mix up of medication doesn’t last and we have to change a few of them out.”

Mickey looked to Ian, who nodded. As Mickey leaned forward, his squeezed Ian’s hand for a moment. “Aside from the meds not working right, was there anything else he may have been worried about? Family issues, work maybe? Or his ex?”

Anna’s face hardened. “All of the above actually. His family has always been a bit stressful. Not on purpose but you know how family is.”

“I do.”

“Work as well. He was asked to work more shifts, which in turn messed up his sleep cycle. He needs 8 hours, no more, no less, exercise and a proper diet. More time at work messed up that routine and he was feeling the effects.”

“That can’t have been easy to handle.” Mickey spoke with the highest of respect for Ian, for anyone who had to endure this. “You mentioned the ex too?”

“Bastard.” Anna didn’t even flinch as she said it. 

“I take it you saw his handy work?” Amara asked, a grimace on his face at the mention of that asshole.

“On more than one occasion I’m afraid. I did everything I could to talk him out of it, to get him out. I encouraged him to report it, but he told me he had it handled.”

Mickey didn’t flinch when Ian’s head came to land on his shoulder. Green eyes closed and his breathing evened out. “M' tired.” Ian yawned and Mickey discreetly leaned his head against Ian’s. To them, Anna and Amara, it would look like his head was craned too far over but that mattered little to him at the moment.

“We heard they broke up a few months back and that Ian was happier because of that. Can you confirm?”

“A little. He seemed happier but not by much. He was on the verge of a manic episode when I saw him. He can sometimes suffer from delusions, hallucinations, hears voices and he seemed to think someone was watching him.”

Mickey gripped the sides of the chair hard, trying not to let this information get the best of him, especially with Ian on his shoulder. “Did he say who?”

Anna nodded. “He said it was his ex, Zeppelin. Ian said that he could see him everywhere. His dreams, work, at home and at his family’s home. But it was hard to be sure with his meds failing.”

The silence stretched out for a moment as everyone absorbed information. Anna seemed engrossed in Ian’s file, Amara was fact checking a few things on his phone and Mickey was just sitting there, listening to the soft, almost nonexistent sound of Ian breathing. He seemed to be asleep or he was a damn good faker. Slow steady breathing, huddled up in his jacket, resting on his shoulder. It was nice. 

But there was another question he needed to ask. One that had been put in Ian’s file that she might be able to clarify, and he was happy the kid was currently snoozing when he asked. “What do you know of Ian’s ‘attempted’ solicitation?”

Anna gave a tired sigh. “Yes, that. I know quite a bit actually. I was called when he was taken to jail for the night, he had gone off his meds and Ian suffered from hypersexuality with his disease.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “Overly sexual?”

“Yes, to the point where he doesn’t control it. Or can’t, won’t even. He doesn’t see anything wrong with it or himself during a manic episode. He engaged in risky behavior, unprotected behavior and didn’t see the harm in it.”

Now Mickey understood Ian’s apprehension for him to come. “So when the officer said attempted….”

She nodded. “Ian wasn’t out there for monetary gain. He was just out there for the sexual activity. During a manic episode, Ian felt like he was invincible, unbreakable. He felt fine without the pills, so he didn’t take them.”

That…was a shit load of information to process. It was hard to imagine Ian like that. It was hard to imagine Ian as anything but the sleepy kid on his shoulder. Soft and sweet, loving and innocent. Even after knowing this stuff, the sex and the episodes, that didn’t change Ian to him. It was just more pieces of the puzzle that made up Ian’s life. 

“Did he do it?”

Mickey looked back to the doctor. “Who?”

“Zeppelin. Did he kill Ian?” 

He shared a look with Amara. “We don’t know doctor. We are trying to gather as much information as possible, but we are looking into it.”

Anna nodded, a little at ease with that promise. “I need to tell you one more thing. You have to understand that even though Ian is gone, I feel like I have to protect him.”

Funny, Mickey felt exactly like that. Even more so because Ian was currently on his shoulder. “We are trying to protect him too, so it’s best we know everything.”

“Ian didn’t start showing up with bruises until after Zeppelin found out that he was seeing someone else.”

“Ian had someone else? Mickey asked, biting his cheek. It was not his place to judge…but that only reminded him of Amara and his indiscretions. 

“He did. He didn’t give me all the details, but I know his name was Ned and that he was married.” Anna felt that guilt of betrayal. “He didn’t like that he had been cheating, and making this Ned guy cheat, but I think he was afraid to leave Zeppelin at that point.”

“Does Ned have a last name?” Amara asked, unable to meet Mickey’s eyes. 

“Yes, but I don’t know it. I tried to get him to go into detail at our next session but that’s when he came in with a black eye and we never spoke of it again.”

Mickey didn’t want to comment. He didn’t want to hear this. Any of it. He was firm on no cheating…but there were circumstances for Ian, maybe for Amara…fuck, maybe for everyone, but he still didn’t have to like it.

“I’m sorry Mick.”

Ian’s voice was barely a whisper in his ear. Mickey knew Ian had been awake, at least for that last part and picked up on his statue routine. Mickey squeezed his arm and lightly kissed the top of his hair. “Don’t be.”

“Thank you doctor, may we have Ian’s file? We may need to go back through it all later on.” Amara stood with a smile.

“Of course, just let me put it all together.”

“One more thing,” Anna looked at him with questioning eyes. “You said Zeppelin knew about Ned?”

“He did.”

Mickey clenched his jaw and stood, Ian following with him and stood even closer if that was possible. “Thank you for all your help.”

“Please, just find out what happened.”

Mickey looked at Ian. “Don’t worry, I have a good place to start.”

**

It was nearing 8 o’clock when Mickey pulled his car up and parked across the street from the Gallagher house. Amara opted to stay back at the precinct, knowing he would need some time to adjust to that new bit of information from Doctor Parker, and dig into this new Ned character whom Ian was seeing. 

Ian hadn’t left his side since that cup of coffee so many hours ago. It made this the longest Ian had stuck around without drifting to places unknown and Mickey wondered if Ian was afraid to be alone now that he had this new information or Ian really wanted to see his family. Mickey wasn’t sure. 

All he knew, was it had been quiet between them. Ian had apologized, Mickey told him not to be sorry…kissed him, then radio silence. The one thing he could not handle was silence. Mickey could handle yelling, crying, rage, laughter, but not silence. It trapped him inside his head for too long and there were things there that didn’t need a double take.

“Are you mad I found out?” Mickey asked in the intimate setting of the car. It was dark, warm and they were alone for a moment. 

“About which part?” Ian asked and he knew his voice was lower than normal. “About all the crazy in my head, about me covering for Zeppelin all the time or that I had an affair with a married man?”

“Don’t say crazy Ian, that’s not what it is.” He sighed, maybe he should have lead with a different question. “I know why you covered for him. It’s hard to get the help when someone we care about is involved.”

“So, that leaves the last one.”

“I know why you did it.” He wanted Ian to know that he understood it, even if he couldn’t get behind the whole thing. “You were afraid of Raines, unable to leave safely and this guy, this Ned, probably made you feel like the most important man in the world.”

Ian was silent, looking straight ahead. 

“Right?” Mickey bumped his elbow and Ian nodded. “Do you understand why that would bug me? Not just because it’s you but cheating in general.”

“Yes, because you want that. Not the cheating thing of course, but you want someone. You only want that someone.”

“I do. And I picture this Ned guy, straight I imagine, at home with his wife, kids maybe. Happy and smiling. But it’s based on his lies. He fakes it with them until he can see you. That doesn’t seem like love to me.”

“Because it’s not. I don’t think the people who cheat actually know what love is.”

Mickey looked at him, but Ian wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Were you happy at all with Ned?”

Ian nodded. “I was. It wasn’t ideal of course and I wouldn’t even call what we had dating, more like sex but it felt real. For the time we had, I didn’t get hit, or told I was a piece of shit. I got called beautiful, he showed me affection, a little romance.”

Fuck, he did not need to hear about this. He didn’t want to hear about Ian with some other guy, or guys, not with Ned or Raines, or anyone. But Ian craved affection, not attention. He just wanted to be treated decently. What was so wrong with that?

“Amara is cheating.” Ian looked at him, not a word from his mouth. “He has a lovely wife, twin 2 year old daughters. He asked her to marry him. And now he wants to cheat? Now he spends his time away, not caring that it would fuckin hurt if she were to find out.”

“I’m sorry Mickey.” Ian leaned back against the seat, looking out the window, looking at nothing. “I wasn’t proud of what I did, but it was an escape. Until Ned, I didn’t see what Zeppelin was doing was wrong.”

“Anna said he didn’t hit you until after he found out. Are you telling me different?” Ian still wouldn’t look at him, so he turned in his seat, lightly grasped Ian’s chin and turned Ian to face him. “Did he hit you before then?”

“Not once.” Mickey deflated. “But one doesn’t have to hit you to abuse you Mickey. The shit be said, how he made me feel about my life, my family, my job…even my bipolar shit, a hit would have been easier.”

It wasn’t always about physical abuse. And Ian was right. It was physiological warfare. It was still abuse. “I still don’t approve of the cheating.” He sighed and noticed he still had Ian’s chin in his gasp. He released it and slowly brushed his thumb over one smooth cheek and Ian’s eyes closed. “But I do understand. We all search for that shit, to feel wanted, needed and when we find it, we don’t want to let it go.”

“I was just tired of feeling empty, alone.” Ian whispered.

“I know.” His head was now very close to Ian’s, so close their noses brushed together. His thumb had somehow moved to Ian’s lips, so soft, so welcoming and Mickey wanted nothing more than to feel them. “I’m happy you found it Ian. I’m sorry you had to work so hard for it though.”

“Why haven’t you found it?” Ian questioned, one of his hands now on top of one of Mickey’s thighs. 

This…they, were getting too close. Way too fucking close. And as much as he wanted to lean forward and kiss him, he didn’t. He wasn’t sure where that line was drawn, but he’d stepped over it, way over it. Mickey backed up enough and Ian’s head dropped an inch, so he was able to kiss his forehead. A light kiss, a lingering kiss.

“I ask that every day.” Mickey smiled when he returned to his own seat. “Fuck, I’m the guy who wants shit like that. That white picket fence shit, with the 2.5 kids, the dog, the boring day to day life. I want that.”

Their little moment was broken as Ian sat back as well, a small smile on his face. “I want you to have that Mick, to find someone and be happy.”

“Maybe one day kid. For now, let’s go see your family and we can talk about it later. Deal?” Mickey arched his eyebrow, he knew Ian wouldn’t let this drop so easily.

“Fine, later. After you eat and promise to sleep.”

The look Ian gave him was non-negotiable. It made him laugh, a deep rumbling sound. It was nice to have someone so concerned over him. Yev did as well, but he didn’t push like Ian did. Amara didn’t either. They knew when to let go. Clearly, Ian had no qualms about pushing him.

“Fuck…you win. Let’s go.”

The air was lighter around them as they walked towards the door. Lighter since their talk before the doctor’s office. A little heart to heart, an understanding would do that, and it helped. Mickey knew he would need it to get past this next part. 

The lights were on inside, there was an expensive car parked out front, which was odd because it was the South Side. He smiled because it would be on blocks in the morning if it wasn’t moved. Ian smiled at him and came to the same conclusion. Mickey also noticed Yev’s bike locked against the inside of the gate. 

“Yev’s here?” 

Mickey nodded and wondered for a moment how he knew that before he let it slip away. “You ready for this?” He asked and looked over at Ian, still draped in his jacket. 

“I don’t think so Mick.”

His voice seemed so low, so small again. Scared. Worried. Mickey put a hand around the back of Ian’s neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb slowly rubbing over the pulse in his neck seemed to calm him down. Mickey noticed that tingle he used to feel when they touched was gone. Gone or maybe they touched so often he had gotten used to it. 

“I’m gonna keep it light. No questions this time. I really just want to see how they are.” 

“And if I can’t do it?”

“I know you can, but if you can’t, I’ll find you after. Okay?” Ian nodded and he squeezed once more before letting him go to knock against the door. 

A few muffled yells, some clatter from within and Mickey took a step back as the door answered. It was not Fiona. This guy was nearly pretty enough to be though. Dark brown hair, slim body, wearing overly tight jeans. Mickey probably should have asked how he got into pants that tight if his brows eyes weren’t red rimmed and puffy.

“Yes?”

“I’m detective Milkovich, is Fiona Gallagher here?” Mickey flashed his badge just to emphasize his status.

“Yes detective. She mentioned you earlier. Please, come in.” He swept his arm to the side, trying to smile.

Ian seemed to know him, but this guy was studying him too closely to ask or ask Ian for a hint. He put away his badge and stepped inside the small entry way, waited for this guy to shut the door and lead him further inside. It was not what he expected. He expected trash and broken down walls, instead he found warmth, comfort. Decent furniture, a homey feeling. Pictures all over the place. It was a home in every sense of the word.

Mickey noticed a few people sitting on the couch as they walked by and when Ian wrapped his arms around one of his arms, he knew it was a few of Ian’s siblings. Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand in sympathy and followed tight pants into the kitchen

Fiona was standing at the coffee pot, eyes distant, curled into herself again. He could see Yev and Carl seated at the table, talking lowly. Tight pants cleared his throat and Fiona looked up at him, giving him a tight smile. 

“Mickey, good to see you again.”

That got Yev's attention and he stood from the table and Mickey was suddenly engulfed in a hug. Ian stayed put, wrapped around his arm and Mickey hugged Yev back with his other one. “Hey bud, you okay?”

Yev moved back. “Yeah, trying to be.”

Mickey gave a little wave at Carl, who waved back, probably on autopilot. “Sorry for the late call. I just wanted to see how everyone was doing.”

Fiona pushed past the people blocking her way and also gave Mickey a tight hug. “Thank you.”

He hugged her back with one arm, as he did with Yev but made sure Ian stayed on his other one. He was quiet as he looked around. Green eyes watery, wide. In pain. “It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Coffee?”

Mickey nodded and followed Yev to the kitchen table in the back. He took a seat and was a little surprised when Ian didn’t. Ian stood behind his chair, both arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely. It felt very couply to him but reassuring. It felt right. Mickey let his head fall back for a moment to rest against Ian before Yev sat next to him.

“Find out anything?”

Mickey wanted to glare at his son for being so blunt but that’s how he raised him so he couldn’t get pissy about it now. “Yev, that’s really not what I came for.”

Fiona came to the table and set out a few coffee cups. “Mickey, you remember Carl. This is Steve, my boyfriend.”

Mickey glanced at Carl who wasn’t even looking up. Then to Steve across from him and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you Steve.”

“You too. Fiona tells me you’re on Ian’s case?”

Fuck, it was nice to believe he could stop by just to see how they were doing, without engaging in any talk about details, but it wasn’t going to happen. “Yes, I am. My partner and I.”

“Do you have anything new?”

Fiona's eyes were so wide and hopeful. Mickey glanced at Yev, who pretty much scowled at him but took the hint and stood. Carl did as well, with no prompt from Fiona. “We have a few new leads, yes. The hardest part about this is waiting for approval for some things.”

“What things?” Steve asked, his arm around Fiona.

“We are waiting for the surveillance tapes from The Fairy Tale. That’s the last place we can put Ian before…” Ian’s grip tightened around him.

“Will those tell you anything?”

“I think so. They could show if anyone followed him out after his shift.” 

Fiona nodded. “Good, that’s good. Did you speak with his doctor too?”

Mickey nodded and took a drink of his coffee. More of a reflex than anything else. “I did. She speaks very highly of your brother. She also gave us a few leads. One, in particular. She mentioned that Ian was seeing someone, not Zeppelin but someone named Ned…”

Ian tense around him again and he so badly wanted to look up and apologize. To reassure him that it would all be okay. Too bad they were watching him like a hawk. Mickey dropped one hand and brought it back to squeeze Ian’s leg. It was all he could offer right now. 

“Ned? He never mentioned that name before. He didn’t mention he was seeing anyone else.” Fiona looked at Steve who seemed stumped as well. “Why wouldn’t he tell us that?”

Mickey was just going to lie until Ian’s chin came to rest on top of his head. “It’s okay Mick. Just tell them.”

“Probably because Ned is married.” 

“That might explain why he was happier those past few months. He finally got away from that asshole and found someone who treated him the right way.”

Fiona was not wrong. But it struck him as odd how she didn’t seem to care about Ned being married. She didn’t even blink. And by the way Steve shifted beside her, brown eyes unable to settle on any one thing for very long, Mickey was sure Fiona had been unfaithful at some point. Or that Steve had been. Maybe both. 

“How are they doing?” Mickey nodded towards the living room.

“Not good.” She sniffled. “They were all really close to him, even with being years apart.”

“You seem to be one short?” he asked, remembering that Ian had an older brother but hadn’t seen another guy that was older than Carl, aside from Steve.

“We are. Uh, Lip moved to New York last year for work. He’s coming though.” Fiona wiped her face. “Uh, when can we….” She took a deep, shaky breath. “When can we claim Ian’s body? I have to start making arrangements.”

That lump he learned to swallow past, just doubled in size. Funeral arrangements. Right, because Ian was dead. Maybe spending too much time with Ian was making him forget that he was gone. “Unfortunately, it won’t be until the investigation is over.”

Neither of them seemed to want to break that silence. They all knew it was far from over, that Ian was far from getting justice and it was going to be a bumpy ride. Sipping bad coffee and enjoying the company of those who understood that seemed to help. 

“Would you…this is gonna sound so odd, out of the blue. But would you like to see some pictures?”

That was probably a bad idea. It would only pull him in more. And he was already in too deep. An example of that was Ian wrapped around him right now. Totally comfortable, at ease. It helped calm him down as well. Made him feel grounded, safe. Knowing that Ian was safe with him….in a sense. 

“Can we see?” Ian asked, running his hand through Mickey’s dark hair.

He leaned into the touch, so subtly it looked like he just turned his head to the side, humming loud enough for Ian to hear it. This was his problem. He was in too deep, he felt too much already but he was unable to say no. 

“I would love to Fiona.”


	6. Grey Area

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things unfold for Ian's case. Some clues and evidence start to make sense and Mickey meets a new Gallagher and to top that off Ian and Mickey's connection keeps growing with every touch, every look and it takes a step further...but are they ready for it...

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 6- Grey Area

3 AM in the Milkovich house was rather quiet. After looking at photo after photo with Fiona, Steve and Ian hanging on his arm, he had left feeling both good and bad. Good because he got a glimpse of Ian’s life again, like the photos at Ian’s apartment, but bad because there would never be another photo of him. No more growing, no changing, no happy ending. 

Now, it was just quiet. Yev was softly snoring down the hall, the rest of the house was dark, all except for Mickey’s office. The dim light on the desk was enough to illuminate the mass collection of papers spread in front of him. 

Amara had pulled those private calls from Ian’s phone. A few had been from the Kash and Grab, the same guy that owned the store, owned the 38 found near Ian’s body. He would have thought it odd that a married man was calling Ian at 2 in the morning, 3 days in a row, until he found out about Ian’s affair. It made him wonder if he found more than one guy to help take the pain away that Raines caused him. 

The other caller came up as one Lloyd Lishman, upper North Side asshat. Doctor, of course he was with a name like that. Married, father of two, pre-med Jimmy and his brother Chip. From all accounts they had a normal, easy going life. Mickey found it a little odd that this Mister Lishman would be calling Ian. 

And on top of all that, their warrant for the tapes outside of The Fairy Tale had been denied. Lack of evidence. Mickey would need to take another crack at Raines, accompanied by his lawyer…great. Things had taken a few steps backwards since this morning and it was taking its toll.

Mickey let out a deep, tired groan as he rested his head in his hands, rubbing both eyes with the palms of his hands. Everything hurt. His head mostly, his eyes, his brain. Anything above the shoulders had a deep pulsing ache. 

“You should head to bed.”

Mickey groaned as his only argument and Ian laughed in reply. Ian was right and Mickey didn’t want him to be. Ian had been quiet since they arrived at Fiona's. There wasn’t much room for them to talk alone, but Ian had made sure to keep some kind of body contact the whole time. An arm, their legs pressing together, Ian’s head on his shoulder. Anything just to keep that buzzing connection between them.

And he picked now to start talking again. “I need to work Ian. Not sleep.”

“You promised you’d get some sleep.” 

“And I will, once I make some sense of this.” He finally moved back, arching back against the chair until both of his shoulders popped. “Fuck!” he hissed and rubbed his right one.

Ian stood up from the small couch in the corner, eyebrows drawn in, concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied automatically. “Just fucked up my shoulder in high school.” He rubbed the muscle over and over, adding about ¼ of the pressure he needed to make it feel better. Sitting in this position, bent over his desk for the past 6 hours wasn’t helping either. 

“Fucked it up how?” Ian asked, walking closer.

“Baseball mostly, fighting mostly.” He chuckled. Both the things that fucked up his body, also saved him. One kept him alive, kept Terry off his back, the other kept him away from the house, gave him a chance at college, a future. A little fucked up on one shoulder wasn’t much of a price to pay for that.

“Baseball…” Ian tried out the word as if saying it for the first time in years. “I could see you playing baseball. The short ones are always fast.”

Mickey snorted but didn’t disagree. “Anything else requires height that I don’t have.” He was so distracted, his mind deep in the past, that he didn’t feel the air change as Ian got closer. Not even the pitch in his voice changed, it always remained low. So when two hands touched the tops of his shoulders, he flinched, then hissed at the pain that followed.

“Easy, shit. I’m not gonna strangle you.” Ian hesitated before he reached out again.

“Sorry. Guess I’m just getting used to you bein around, so I don’t notice that shit anymore.” Mickey replied with a tired voice, a voice that turned into a deep groan as Ian started to massage the tense muscles. 

Fuck, it felt good. Ian’s hands spanned a good area of his shoulders, putting the right amount of pressure to ease the pain. Mickey couldn’t even remember the last time he had a massage…probably never. Not even the happy ending kind. 

“This okay?” Ian asked as he worked his back, palms digging into his blades, finger tips digging into the sides of his neck.

“Yeah, s' okay.” He mumbled and let his head fall forward. “Feels good.” Ian shifted, stepping closer and angled both hands so they massaged only the right shoulder, covering everywhere it hurt. “Fuck…”

Ian chuckled. “I guess you didn’t have surgery for this shoulder?”

Mickey shook his head, leaning further back into the incredible touch. He never wanted it to stop. He wanted to feel it all over. “Nope. Blew it out in college, no money to spend to fix it. They booted me.”

“I’m sorry.” Ian whispered, unaware of the fact that he leaned down closer. “Here, take your shirt off.”

That snapped Mickey right out of his mini utopia. “Uh, do what now?”

Ian pushed him forward and tried to hike up the back of his shirt, but Mickey wasn’t having any of it. “Jesus Christ, I’m not gonna jump you cuz you ain’t got a shirt on. It’s just getting in the way.”

Mickey glared back at him, skeptical. This was a bad fucking idea. Even with his shirt on, he was feeling too much strange shit, now Ian wanted to take it off? That wasn’t going to help. “I’m fine with it on.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re shy.” Ian smirked and tried for the shirt again. He managed to tug it up a little until firm hands gripped tight.

“M' not shy Ian. You saw me with it off already. Why would I be shy now? What grown ass man gets shy over that anyway?” he scuffed. Being an asshole was a strategy for feeling exposed like this. It seemed to work out pretty well…at least before Ian. 

“Well, you apparently.” Ian chuckled and pulled at the shirt, taking it up another inch. “What are you so scared of?”

You. That’s what he should have said. Three letters, one word. Simple. Complicated. Mickey was afraid of Ian. Afraid of how he felt around him, afraid of the things he wanted to do with Ian. To Ian. Ian brought out emotions he never felt before. Maybe that made him a prude, or a coward or maybe that just him human.

Mickey scuffed and released the shirt. “Fuckin fine but it’s on you.” Okay it was a little cryptic, but unlike Ian’s nearly, seemingly perfect body, his was a little worse for wear.

“I won’t see anything I don’t already like.” Ian smiled and slowly tugged the shirt up his thick shoulders, his head slipped out, then his arms and he was able to toss it onto the desk.

Mickey kept as still as Ian was. The colder air that always lingered around Ian hit his warmed skin, breaking him out in goosebumps but Ian’s hands were surprisingly warm. “You want me to put it back on?”

“No, I just didn’t expect…” Ian trailed off and ran his fingers over one of the many scars on Mickey’s back. “I don’t really know what I expected.”

“Yeah well, perks of the job.” Mickey chuckled, but it was far from funny. His back was littered with scars of all shapes and sides. Some from work, being shot at, attacked on occasion but most were from Terry. Compliments of growing up in that Milkovich household. 

“Work, or home?” Ian asked as he ran his hand up what looked to be a scared up welt, probably from a belt. 

“Little of both. Home mostly.” Mickey didn’t really let anyone see his back, not even the few serious relationships he’d had, all 2 of them. They saw as minimal as possible to avoid this conversation, but this was different, this was Ian. “It’s in the past. Don’t worry about it.”

Ian remained silent and Mickey could feel each time Ian touched one of the scars. Bullet wound, left side. Cigarette burns, back of his neck. Whip marks from Terry's belt, center of his back. There were more but it was endless. 

“I’m sorry Mick.” Ian moved away from the scars and moved to the right shoulder, slowly working his hands along the stiff muscles. “Please tell me he’s dead.”

“He isn’t. As much as I’ve prayed for his death, that fucker still lives in our house, a few blocks away from you.”

“You know, I could probably kill him.” 

Mickey snorted. “Say what?”

“Seriously. I’m a ghost, sort of. You always see them doin shit like that. Bet I could figure it out.” He knew Mickey was smiling but Ian had never meant anything as much as he meant those words.

“Well thanks Patrick Swayze, but I will pass on that.” Mickey grinned, relaxing with each move of Ian’s hands. The offer was the closest thing to sweet as he’d ever gotten, sad but true. “I learned a long time ago that he just isn’t worth it.”

“If you ever change your mind…” Ian smiled. “But I like the tattoo.”

Mickey nodded. He had gotten Yevgeny’s name tattooed on his left shoulder just after he was born. It made all scars on his back seem a little less bad. “Thanks.”

“Feel a little better?” Ian asked again after a while. Moving to rub both shoulders at the same time, his thumbs lightly pushing into his spine.

“Feels fucking fantastic.” They both chuckled. “And feel free to stop whenever you want.”

“I thought you liked it.” Ian narrowed his eyes when Mickey glanced back.

“I do, I really do. But you don’t gotta do it.” 

Okay, it sounded a little mean, but each touch brought a new lick of fire across his body and he was surprised Ian’s hands weren’t hot because of it. 

“I want to though. I like touching you.”

Mickey shivered and he knew Ian saw it, felt it. Fuck, he liked Ian touching him too. He didn’t want to just outright admit that so there was no excuse for anything else that came from his mouth. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? Got a thing for scars?”

Ian shook his head and gently pushed Mickey to lean forward, he did, reluctantly. “Scars add character Mick. I could do without them, for you to not have them, but they don’t turn me off.”

Mickey let his forearms rest against the arms of the chairs, leaning forward just a little. “No?”

“Not one bit.”

Mickey was surprised when Ian pulled him back to his original position, leaning back, only the back of the chair separating them and he really wished it wasn’t there. He did feel when Ian leaned forward because his hands stopped and his face was very, very close.

“I still think you are beautiful.” Ian whispered and noticed how Mickey shivered. “Let me show you.”

Show him? What did that mean? Mickey was about to ask that very question when he felt Ian’s lips against the back of his neck, soft and light and right over a few of the scars. He groaned, it was unavoidable. It felt too good, perfect and everything he thought it would be.

“Ian…”

“Shhh…” Ian shushed.

His lips moved to the right, just a little and laid another kiss, just as light as the first one and just as incredible. Then another, then another. Across his entire right shoulder, up that side of his neck. Nothing more than a soft kiss, no teeth, no tongue, nothing but lips and it was no doubt the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Is this okay?” Ian asked against his ear.

Mickey could hear the nervousness in his voice. If he said it wasn’t okay, Ian would back off. If he said it was okay, there would be more, and he had no idea if he was allowed to want more. His body certainly did, a few kisses and he was about to explode but he was warring with his mind.

I don't know, is what he should have said, he didn't, couldn't maybe. “Yeah, it’s okay.” Mickey mumbled and Ian’s lips were instantly back on his skin, a little harder than before and he could have sworn he heard Ian groan as he moved to the other side, giving the left side of his neck and across his shoulder equal attention. “Ian…” it was his turn to groan as Ian kissed behind his left ear.

“Favorite spot of yours?” Ian smiled, curiously amused as he nosed at it.

Mickey nodded and gripped the arms of the chair. By now, his entire body was trembling in need, want. It had been years since someone took proper care of him like this and every year had suddenly caught up to him all at once. 

Ian’s mouth moved back to the center of his back, slowly…so fucking slowly moving down his spine. His lips were silky soft, each time he exhaled against his skin, he ached for more. Inappropriate images surfaced in his mind, of all the things that this would or could normally lead to, but they were far from normal together.

“Ian.” Mickey whined, he actually whined. It sent a chill down his own spine and Ian groaned against his back, nearing a growl before Ian moved back and his chair was spun around to face him.

Mickey didn’t know what he expected. No, he expected Ian as he always was; calm, no nonsense, ethereal. But not this time. Ian’s eyes seemed to be glowing, making his skin seem pale in comparison. He was actually breathing hard, his chest rising and falling quickly. Ian seemed to be right where he was. 

“What are we doing?” Ian asked as he took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. 

Mickey took a deep breath and watched Ian take in the front of his body, still shirtless and on display. He was not a 13 year old girl, he wouldn’t cover up just because. But he probably should with the way Ian was looking at him. No one had looked at him like that in a long time.

“I don’t know Ian.” He breathed out a laugh, a tired one. “I have no fucking idea how any of this shit works.”

That was the truth. There were no rules. No guide book. Ian didn’t receive ‘A Handbook for The Recently Deceased’ upon arrival. It was true, they had a deep connection from the first second, but this was something else. It was turning into more. He noticed now that it had been leading up to this conversation. All the casual touching, him kissing Ian’s head, linking their arms, hugging even. Holding hands in his bed, pressed face to face. Maybe it was all leading to this moment. The MORE moment.

“What do you want to do?” Ian asked and tried his best not to blatantly stare at him.

Just Ian looking did something strange to him. It ignited his entire body. Mickey knew what he wanted to do. The same thing he’d wanted to do earlier while they sat in the car outside Fiona's house. He wanted to kiss him. Without meaning to, his eyes flickered to Ian’s lips.

Ian stepped forward and Mickey had to look up to meet his eyes. He wasn’t even sure he, they, were supposed to do this. Whatever this was. If they had rules, and they probably did, this had to be breaking them. This couldn’t have been allowed. 

Mickey stood stark still as Ian’s hand came up to his face, much like when they had coffee earlier. His thumb slowly stroking his cheekbone. It was easy to lean into his palm, it didn’t feel like he shouldn’t. Nothing felt forbidden around Ian. Like they were capable of anything. 

“Kiss me.” Mickey whispered just as Ian leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The air changed around them, Ian’s body warmed as they touched, the palm on his face felt like a furnace. Mickey groaned into the kiss, his own hands slowly moving to settle on either side of Ian’s waist. 

His lips were just as perfect on his own as they had been on his back. Soft and sweet. Ian’s other hand came up alongside the other, cradling his face. They pulled back long enough to go again, a little harder, eager. He craved Ian’s touch and Ian craved his. 

Reluctantly, Mickey pulled back and broke the kiss, leaning their heads together. Even with the softness, it had them panting, his heart pounding and he knew he would ever feel anything like that again. 

“Fuck,” Mickey chuckled, and Ian grinned back. “Please tell me you felt that…”

Ian nuzzled his nose for a moment before stealing a kiss. “I felt everything. I only feel anything with you.”

Mickey didn’t know if this was wrong. It probably was. But it didn’t feel like it. It felt good, right. He needed it. Ian needed it. They both wanted it. It had been there from that first moment. That undeniable pull. Even on opposite sides of the veil, they had been drawn together. Two strangers, destined to meet, even if one of their hearts would never beat again. 

“I’m tired.” Mickey mumbled, his eyes nearly drooping shut. 

Ian nodded. “Bed?”

Mickey didn’t think twice about saying no or taking that one word the wrong way. He did what he wanted, what felt right. He linked his fingers with Ian’s and lead him down the hall, past Yev's room and into his. No reason to bother with the lights, he kicked off his shoes, smiled as Ian did the same and made a note to comment on his Ghosty Shoes tomorrow. 

Mickey went to his side, pulled off his shirt, let his jeans drop, unaware of that heated look Ian gave him, and slid between cool sheets. The moment his head hit the pillow, his eyes shut, and he felt the bed dip and Ian was on his side again, facing him.

“I don’t want you to leave anymore.” Mickey grabbed Ian behind the neck and pulled him until their foreheads touched. He ran his thumb over the now warm skin at his neck. “Will you stay?” Ian nodded. “All the time?”

Ian mimicked Mickey and rubbed the side of his neck until blue eyes fluttered closed. “Only if you stay with me.”

Mickey kissed him lightly, losing the last bit of energy he had. “Always gonna be here Ian. I wouldn’t leave you here.”

Ian smiled and felt his own eyes close, he didn’t even feel the tear that dripped into the pillow. “Thank you.”

**

The loud shrill of his alarm blasted through the quiet room. Mickey turned, groaning like an old man the whole way and slapped blindly at it before snuggling back into his pillow. The moment he got comfortable, it went off again. And again. Each time shorter than the last.

“Fuck, fine.” He whined and glared at the clock that blinked 7 at him. He only went to bed 3 hours ago. His own fault really. It only took a moment to realize that he was alone. Mickey quickly turned over to see Ian’s side…since when had it become Ian’s side....it was empty, the blanket long since cold. 

“Ian?” he whispered, noticing the music coming from Yev's room. Mickey tossed the blanket back and shrugged back into his jeans but couldn’t find his button up shirt. He quickly pulled on a short sleeved shirt and padded quickly down the hallway.

“Morning.” 

Mickey stopped at his door, giving a quick look inside. Ian wouldn’t be in there, but he looked in anyway. “Why are you up so damn early? You know it’s Saturday, right?” 

“Carl called and asked me over. I guess they went to get Lip this morning.”

Mickey nodded. Lip, Ian’s older brother that lived in New York. “Okay, you got plans later?” Yev looked away. Mickey new that look. Fuck. “You meetin him?”

“Maybe later if he can.” 

Mickey rubbed at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, trying not to get mad. It wouldn’t help. In the past few days, he learned that things weren’t always as they seemed. Ian had gone through hell with someone he cared about, at the hands of that same person and had found comfort in another. Maybe Yev's boyfriend found it too.

“I’m not gonna fight with you on this.” Yev looked relieved, his shoulders sagged. “But I want you to get tested.” 

“Dad—”

Mickey shook his head and Yev didn’t try again. “No, you get tested. This is big boy shit Yev. You have no fuckin clue who he sleeps with, you’re getting tested.”

“Okay.”

Mickey nodded and knew Yev was mad at him. He didn’t give a damn. If Yev was going to do this, actively participate in underage sexual activity, he was gonna be as safe as possible. It didn’t matter if he had to drag him by his ears, that boy was getting tested regularly. 

“Damn it!”

Mickey grinned at Ian’s soft voice. Even when he was clearly pissed, his voice never got louder. It was cute. Like a kid throwing a tantrum. Mickey walked down the hall and into the kitchen to see Ian standing at the counter. His playful smile turned into something darker when he saw Ian in his shirt, the one he couldn’t find. 

Fuck, he looked good. Something so simple should NOT look that damn good. It also gave him a moment to think how weird this shit was. Ghost or not, Ian was able to do a fair amount of ‘real' people shit. Coffee, smoke, take if his Ghosty clothes…he snorted internally, and apparently ghosts could touch…and kiss. 

Damn, that kiss.

Ian seemed to be trying to grab something, the handle of the cabinet but his hand kept passing through it. The closer he got to Ian, the easier it seemed for Ian to try and open it. When he was directly behind him, Ian’s hand connected with the handle and he let out the cutest laugh.

“Getting frustrated?” Mickey put his chin up on Ian’s shoulder and he automatically leaned back against his chest.

“Yes.” Ian huffed as he grabbed the can of coffee and turned around. “It shouldn’t be that hard to make coffee. I was standing there for an hour.”

Mickey could not dim his smirk, not even pretend to. He was so damn sexy. All of it. Ian himself, Ian shoeless in his kitchen, wearing his shirt and getting pissy because he couldn’t make coffee. 

“Yeah, making coffee is serious shit. It should only be attempted by trained professionals.” Mickey laughed as he said it and Ian glared at him, no heat in that look whatsoever.

“Gimme that!” He took the coffee back and let it clatter against the counter.

“Thought you’d gone.” Mickey dropped the smirk and tried not to feel so fucking helpless. It freaked him out at the prospect of Ian leaving. It scared him shitless.

Ian’s face softened as he was pulled closer. Ian had a grip on his shirt, dragging him to stand between his feet. Mickey didn’t fight it, not one bit. He’d been doing that for days, days that felt like weeks and he was tired. 

“I told you I’d stay.” Ian cupped his cheek, bringing him that much closer. “I don’t have to sleep very much.”

Mickey looked up and Ian’s eyes were as green as ever. Bright. Beautiful. They always seemed darker at the end of the day, like he needed a charge before they brightened again. Maybe them laying together was enough to help with that. It sure as fuck helped him. Even with 3 hours of sleep, he was high functioning. 

He didn’t pull away when Ian leaned down, he didn’t pull away when Ian hesitated and gave him the chance to. His body revved up when Ian gave him a confident smirk, one he wasn’t used to seeing. Mickey cocked his head up and connected them, his hands moved up to Ian’s back, holding him as tight as he could. 

Ian groaned against his lips, and Mickey felt his tongue sweep across his lip, asking to get in. A deep groan echoed off the walls as his lips parted and Ian’s tongue slipped inside, tangling slowly with his own. 

“Dad?”

Mickey moved back slowly, unwilling to pull away. Yev's voice sounded far and he knew he was still in his room. His head leaned against Ian’s, panting against his lips. “If I don’t answer, he’ll be in here in about 2 minutes.”

“Let’s not waste it.”

Mickey pulled him by the back of his neck and this kiss was more desperate, fast. Tongues twisting, lips smacking. Ian’s hands moved to the small of his back, those long fingers dancing along his jeans. The need to grind forward hit him hard, he was halfway rolling his hips when Yev called again.

“Dad?”

Closer this time and Mickey jerked away, unable to explain to his son why he was kissing the damn air like a lunatic. He grabbed the can of coffee but didn’t move away from Ian, he let his head fall forward to rest against his chest, Ian’s hands on his shoulders. 

“Yeah?” He mumbled just as Yev stepped into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Nothin. Was just gonna say I was leaving.” 

A kiss was placed at the top of his head and Mickey moved back, turning to nod at Yev. “I’m gonna be swamped today but don’t hesitate to call or come by.”

Yev nodded and waved on his way to the door. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” He replied just as Yev shut the door, leaving them alone. Alone was probably not the best thing right now. “It never fails.”

Ian narrowed his eyes, arms crossed. “What’s that?”

“Being around you, I lose track of time.” He chuckled and Ian smiled. “You’re so fucking distracting.”

Ian stepped back up to him, grinning like he hadn’t a care in the world. “Um…thank you?”

Mickey backed up as Ian kept stepping closer. He knew that look. He wanted that look. “Don’t even think about it kid. I have actual work to do, remember?” He found himself backed against a wall in the hallway and Ian descended on him, hands coming to rest beside his head.

It took him a second to realize that the hesitation to touch was gone. He no longer felt like he had to or needed to justify touching him. He had no one to explain himself too. Ian never really hesitated. Not with the casual touching. He just did it like it was normal, like they’d been doing it for years. Only a time or two Ian had asked to make sure, and he always said yes. 

“Not likely to forget.” He leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Come on, time to get dressed.”

Mickey shook his head. “Bad fuckin idea. You go first cuz the moment clothes hit the floor…” he trailed off as he blushed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Shit forget that. Just go.”

“I can’t Mick. I can’t do shit unless you’re close enough.” He motioned back to the coffee in the kitchen. “I just need my shoes and I’m keepin the shirt.”

Mickey lightly pushed him back and knew he followed him down the hall and into his room. He slid Ian’s Ghosty shoes to him with his foot and crossed his arms. “Go on, then you gotta go so I can take a damn shower.”

Ian’s eyebrows perked right up, and a wicked smile appeared on his face. 

Mickey blushed for the second time in 5 minutes. It seemed now that they crossed that kissing barrier and hadn’t been struck by lightning or sucked into a hell dimension, it opened a doorway to a realm of possibilities. None of which he, they, were ready for. Probably would never be.

“Perv. Just go.” He backed Ian out of the room and shut the door on his smirking face and leaned against it. “Fuckin Christ.”

“Hey Mick?” Ian called, laughter in his voice.

“What now?” 

“Maybe you forgot, but that door won’t, can’t keep me out ya know.” Ian chuckled and pushed his hand through the door, and it rested on Mickey’s side. “See?”

Mickey jumped away, like he did the first time he touched Ian. That was fucking weird. It reminded him that Ian was dead. Like really, he was. Forever. Or not? Too much grey area, not enough black and white. “Keep your little ghost hands to yourself.” 

He stomped into the bathroom and smiled at sound of Ian laughing…then Ian cursing, and Mickey could picture him still trying to make coffee. Classic.

**

Before Mickey even had time to take his jacket off and kick the snow off his boots, Captain Fuller was yelling for him and Amara like a bat outta hell. He semi jogged to the large office, Amara next to him and saw Fuller behind his desk, looking over a stack of files with an irritated look on his face.

“Captain?” Mickey prompted. He had a shit load to do and did not want to waste any time. They were going to make headway today, if it killed him.

“What’s this I hear about your suspect Raines getting a lawyer the first 10 minutes you speak to him?”

Mickey snorted. “I barely managed to get one question out before that asshole said the magic words. What was I supposed to do, not get him a lawyer?”

“Yes! We need a solid lead here boys and I’m sure that kid has all the answers.”

Captain Fuller was a straight shooter. He didn’t skirt the edges of the law like he was clearly telling them to do. He was frustrated and spouting off. Mickey did what he was supposed to and left when Raines asked for one. 

“What’s up Cap?” Amara asked.

“Got a call this morning. Raines lawyer accused you of threatening him when he was here. Said something about jail sex?”

Mickey and Amara broke out into a fit of laughter and Mickey had to wipe a tear off his cheek. “Fuck, I needed a good laugh. But no, okay…kinda. I was tryin to make him sweat, starin at him and he said the last time someone looked at him like that he got laid. So I mentioned him getting turned out when we arrest him.”

Amara offered his fist, which Mickey bumped with his own.

“Jesus Milkovich, you know you can’t say shit like that. Now I have his lawyer stalking my office bitchin and shit.”

“Tell him to bring Raines back in for questioning or to take a hike. We have shit we need to ask him and no cause to push it out of him.”

“Relax.” Fuller rubbed his eyes. “I’ll get him back in here but leave his sexual orientation out of it.”

Mickey nodded and Amara followed him out of the office and back to their desks. Ian, was sitting in his chair, spinning in a circle, smiling at him. He hung up his jacket just as Mags was coming into the room.

“Hey boys.” She smiled at them.

Mickey smiled back. “Hey Mags. Please tell me you got something for us.”

Mags nodded and handed them the file she had under her arm. “Remember that hair I found, the brown one?” They nodded. “It turns out, that the DNA was on file, just not here in Chicago.”

Mickey scanned through the papers with no fucking idea what any of it meant before he tossed it to Amara. “What does that mean, not in Chicago? Where the hell else was it?”

“It, the DNA, belongs to your suspect Raines. His DNA was not on file here because when his DNA was taken, he was in Atlanta for another charge.”

Ian stopped spinning in the chair, green eyes wide and Mickey moved to lean against the desk close to him. Ian scooted forward and reached out for him, leaning his head against his side. They both took a deep breath, calming instantly.

“What? That shit doesn’t sync up?” Mickey asked, rather annoyed. DNA could take weeks and she managed to find it within 2 days, in another state. It was impressive.

“No, they only link within that state.” 

Amara tossed the file onto his desk and crossed his arms. “What did they get him for?”

“Attempted rape.” 

“Mick…”

Mickey looked down and let his hand settle on Ian’s neck, rubbing back and forth. “That should have been on his record. What the hell happened?”

“I made some calls, and it seems that the charges were dropped when the so called victim went missing. They had him swabbed, DNA was a slam dunk, but the victim dropped off the face of the earth.”

Mickey huffed. “No victim, no crime.” Mags nodded. “So now we have his hair on Ian.”

Amara spoke up. “Mick, you know his lawyer will toss that shit out. He dated Ian, for at least a year. At some point his DNA was all over him. They are gonna argue that fact until they are blue in the face.”

Amara was not wrong. One hair, on the body of someone you used to date was worthless. And there was no other DNA. Fucker used a condom. “Anything else that could link Raines?”

Mags nodded but she wasn’t happy. “It’s circumstantial, just like the hair. The marks on Ian’s thighs, the bruises, they also match Raines from when he was printed in Atlanta.”

“I don’t understand Mick.” Ian whispered and pushed his face into his side.

The next part was for Ian, but he spoke at them. “That means, he will argue that they had a bit of rough sex before Ian was killed. That would explain the hair, the signs of sex and the bruises.”

He felt Ian start to tremble against his side and rubbed his neck. Fuck….this was a bad idea. Having Ian anywhere need this was a bad fucking idea. Ian could only remember up to a certain point, then it went blank. Thanks to Mags, she filled in a few blanks.

“Fuck, this is not good. We can’t take that to the D.A. with any hope of convicting. They had a prior relationship and they’ll walk all over us.”

“Yeah, I know it wasn’t what you wanted Mick. We have his prints and DNA and can’t do a thing with it.” Mags apologized again and made a hasty exit.

Mickey looked over his shoulder to see Amara face down in his desk, looking through Mags' file. He took the chance to lean down and kiss Ian’s head. “I’m gonna go make a stop real quick. Can you stay here for me?”

“A stop where?” Ian moved back enough to look at him.

“I’m goin to pick up Raines. It’ll only take a few minutes and you might just want to stay here.” 

Honestly, he didn’t know if Ian could handle it. Mickey, who had years of this under his belt was having a hard time with it. He didn’t want Ian anywhere around Raines. Not in the same room, not the same building, not even the same damn city. 

“I don’t want to see him Mick.” 

“I know.” He whispered and squeezed him close for a minute. “Just stay close, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. Be careful though Mick.”

Mickey nodded, touched by the sentiment. He didn’t point out that he had a gun at his hip and would have no problem shooting Raines on principal. “I will Ian.” With one more glance at Amara, still occupied, he tipped Ian’s chin up to lightly kiss his lips. 

“Amara.” Mickey called as he stood up and shrugged his jacket on. 

“Yeah?”

“Not waitin around for Fuller's polite phone call to Raines. You down for a pick up?” he arched an eyebrow and checked to make sure his gun was loaded. He didn’t miss Ian’s chuckle beside him.

“Damn right I’m ready.” Amara grabbed his jacket, the file and strapped the gun to his hip. “Bout time we got some answers, but you know Fuller is gonna flip his shit.”

Mickey winked at Ian as he and Amara headed out the door and into the nearest car, which was his. “He’ll forgive us later…maybe. It’s fucked up that Raines gets to sit at home while Ian sits in the morgue.” He shivered and started the car. “That shit ain’t right.”

Amara didn’t disagree as they sped towards Raines' address. Mickey had a feeling the address was bogus, and they’d have to hunt his ass down. It didn’t get that far. His phone rang and he didn’t recognize the number. He answered when he stopped at a red light, just before the last ring. 

“Hello?”

“Mickey?” a frantic voice asked.

He recognized the voice instantly and by the tone of her voice, it wasn’t good. “Fiona, what’s wrong?” Amara looked at him, worried and directed him to an open spot against the sidewalk. He parked and waited for her to talk.

“It’s Lip.” She cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “My brother. He just got into town and stopped by Ian’s place. He has a key and he saw that the door had been busted open.”

“Fuck!” Mickey pulled back into traffic and sped towards Ian’s apartment. 

“Mickey, they arrested my brother and won’t let me talk to him.” 

“Put the fucker on.” He hissed and a quick shuffle of the phone let him know she did as he asked.

“This is officer Mullins, who am I speaking with?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. He still hated cops. “This is detective Milkovich. Can you tell me what’s going on? You’re at my victims apartment.”

“Got a couple of kids here, a Lip Gallagher, whose brother owns the apartment. He found a Mister Zeppelin Raines inside the apartment when he arrived, and the lock had been busted.”

“Fuckin Raines at Ian’s apartment.” Angled the phone away as he spoke to Amara. “Call Fuller and let him know.” This was not going as planned. “Raines is a suspect in a rape and homicide. I was just on my way to pick him up. Can you keep em there for me?”

“What about the other one, Gallagher?”

“Is he under arrest too?” Mickey asked and was suddenly really happy Ian decided to stay at the precinct. 

“I have him detained. He caught Raines breaking in but kinda pummeled the guy. His face is a mess, have an ambulance on the way.” 

Mickey grinned, suddenly very excited to see Raines. He wanted to see what Lip Gallagher was capable of. “I’m about 5 minutes away. Let Gallagher go and I’ll take em both back with me.”

“Sure thing detective. Happy I don’t have to deal with the paper work.” Mullins snorted. “You want the lady back?”

“Yes sir, thank you.” He turned to Amara, who only nodded saying that he told Fuller what was happening. The phone was shuffled again, this time back to Fiona. “Fiona?”

“Hey, so what’s happening?”

Her voice was that high pitched, no arguing tone she had back when they talked. She was ready to bite and claw to make sure her brother didn’t go to jail and he could respect that. “I’m almost there. Raines is under arrest for breaking and entering. He’s letting Lip go but I need him to come with me.”

“Oh, thank God!” She laughed at first, then her voice got dead serious. “Wait, why? He didn’t do anything.” 

“Easy Fiona, I know. But he is a witness to Raines B&E, and he may have some sort of idea why he was there. He isn’t in trouble, but I need to speak with him.”

“Does he need a lawyer?”

“That’s his right, but it’s unnecessary.” Mickey pulled up to Ian’s and parked. “I’m outside, I’ll be right—” he didn’t get to finish before she was blasting out the door. Mickey got out and thought she was about to deck him. The opposite, she hugged him hard. Muttering thank you over and over.

Amara grinned and Mickey flipped him off. He wasn’t used to so much touching and affection. He normally tried to avoid it and now Fiona hugged him all the time. Ian too. He was getting used to it, even liking when it happened. God, he was going soft.

Finally she pulled back and he did something he would deny later on, he cupped her puffy face and wiped her tears away, seeing that blinding smile underneath. “Like I said, Lip isn’t in trouble. Fuck, I kinda wanna hug the bastard.”

“Who, me?”

Mickey looked past Fiona to see a gangly guy with a head of dark curly hair, on a skinny frame, smiling. Bloody knuckles, possibly a broken finger, a light bruise on one cheekbone, but a bright as smile trumped all that. Mickey wanted to fuckin deputize hiss ass and keep him at all times. 

“Yes you.” Mickey grinned and offered his hand to Lip who took it. Mickey pulled him into that half manly hug thing and heard him chuckle. “Thank you for givin me a reason to arrest his punk ass. Was just on my way to get him.”

Lip nodded and took a drag off his cigarette. “Special delivery, I guess. I hate that fucker.”

“Yeah, we got a club goin.” Mickey chuckled. Amara lead the way into the building, and they saw a busted up Raines seated on the floor next to the door way. His face was a bloody mess. “Well well…just couldn’t stay outta trouble huh?”

“Oh, go to hell.” Zeppelin spat out blood as he glared up at all of them. “I want to press charges. 

Mickey scuffed, as did officer Mullins. Mickey offered his hand, which was taken and showed the man his badge just because, respect. “Thanks for handling this carefully. This kid has been a pain in my ass all week.”

“Happy to help. And kid, you can’t press charges. You broke into this apartment, you’re in no place to do much right now.”

Amara moved past him to grab one of Raines' arms to help haul him up. He hissed like a baby the whole time and Amara just rolled his eyes and bumped him into a few walls as he lead him out to the ambulance that just pulled up.

“Lip, you wanna walk in with me?” Mickey nodded into the apartment and Lip stepped past Fiona to follow him. “Any idea what he might have been after?”

Lip shook his head. “Ian didn’t have much to steal. No extra cash or anything of any monetary value.”

The place was destroyed the cabinets in the kitchen where opened, food laying all over the floor. The couch had been upturned, cushions spread out, even the t.v. was busted. Ian’s side tables near the bed had been rifled through, items scattered around. The bathroom cabinet had been opened, Ian’s pill bottles in the sink and the first trail of blood. 

Mickey stepped passed Lip and picked up Ian’s meds. Why would Raines go for his meds? It’s not like you could get high on any of them, or he was fairly certain you couldn’t. Probably not worth anything on the streets either. 

“What’s he want with Ian’s meds?” Lip asked and took one from his hand and shook it.

“Is this where you found him when you came in?” 

Lip nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure who it was, so I snuck up on him and pulled him out.”

Mickey put the meds back and grabbed the one Lip took and also placed in back. “Okay, let’s get out of here. There was something in his pills that he was after. I think he trashed the room, hoping whoever found it would classify it as a robbery.”

“Shouldn’t we take these then?” 

Mickey backed away, dialing as he spoke. “No, I need CSU down here to bag it and take pictures just in case we miss something.” He lead Lip out and saw him talking to Fiona. He took out his phone and called the precinct. "Yeah, this is Defective Milkovich, I need CSU at the apartment of Ian Gallagher. Yeah, it’s in the file. Uh huh…sure. 10 minutes? Thank you.”

They walked outside where Raines was sitting on the back of the ambulance, getting patched up, still in handcuffs. Raines kept glaring at them, and he couldn’t give a shit. “Okay, Lip you ride with me and Amara, Raines is coming too. Fiona, if you want a lawyer for him now is the time to call, then you can meet us.”

“I don’t want one Fiona.” Lip stared at Mickey, ignoring Fiona.

Mickey nodded, respect blossoming from the trust. “Good, cuz you won’t need it. Let’s get this shit taken care of, yeah?” Lip shook his hand and Fiona hugged him and they split ways and headed back to the precinct. Raines was goin down this time, for one thing or another.


	7. Plausible Deniability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey tries to pull some info from Raines about the break in at Ian's apartment all while juggling the intense emotions and feelings towards Ian, feelings that only get stronger the more they touch.

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 7- Plausible Deniability

 

“Okay, tell me your name for the record.” 

Mickey had Lip sitting exactly where Fiona had been the day before, a cup of coffee between her hands. Only this time, there was a tape recorder on the table next to them. He hadn’t lied when he said Lip didn’t need a lawyer. He didn’t. He stopped a burglar. This was just protocol and if they didn’t dot their I's and cross their T's, this whole thing could fall apart.

Lip cleared his throat and leaned forward. “My name is Phillip Gallagher.”

Mickey nodded. “Okay good. Now, tell me everything that happened the moment you arrived at Ian’s apartment.”

“I got a call from his landlord, and he asked me what I wanted to do with Ian’s things. I said I’d meet him and decide. So, I took a cab there and when I got to the door, it was cracked open, the door frame was splintered.”

“So, you walked in, saw the place a mess?” Mickey offered, giving him a place to start.

Lip nodded. “Yes. I grabbed the bat by the door and heard someone in the bathroom. I saw Zeppelin going through Ian’s medicine cabinet.”

Fuck, Mickey really wished it would have been him who found Raines there. Of course if that happened, he would probably be facing a murder charge himself so thank you for small blessings. 

“Did you hit him with the bat?”

“No, once I realized who it was, I tossed it, grabbed him and he turned around and punched me. We fought until the landlord called the police and we were both detained until you arrived.”

It was clear that Lip had done this kinda thing before. He used the right amount of detail that didn’t have the questioner; him, asking him to elaborate. He said just enough without oversharing and made sure not to implicate himself along the way. That kinda shit you only learn from personal run ins with the cops and a few fuck ups under your belt.

“You said he hit you first?” Mickey asked, but made sure to nod at Lip, telling him to say yes to that, even if it wasn’t true; which it was. 

Lip smiled. “Yes, he punched me, and I backed out of the bathroom and he came at me again, so I punched him back.”

He didn’t want Lip to get dragged into the middle of shit storm. “And if he hadn’t hit you, what would you have done?”

“I would have called the cops.”

Mickey nodded and clicked the tape off and they both took a deep breath. That one device was like having a parent, your boss and the school principal breathing down your neck. 

“Fuck, I hate those damn things.” Mickey mumbled and sat back in his chair to ease the tension from his back. “I needed to get your side before I take a crack at him.”

“There’s no way he’s gonna walk right?” Lip asked, nervously bouncing one leg.

“Not at all. He was caught in the commission of a crime and was under suspicion for rape and murder.” He didn’t miss when Lip flinched. “Plus with his rap sheet and long list of accomplished criminal activity, they won’t just let him walk.”

“Good. Fuck, cuz I don’t mind the jail time for kickin his ass, but I want him to get some too.”

“Don’t worry about that man. We got him for this, he looks damn good for the rest, but we aren’t there yet. Only a matter of time though.”

Mickey took the silence as a good thing. He knew Lip was wired from the fight, concerned about Raines walking and about Ian. He was worried about Ian as well. He expected him to be there when he got back, it took more time then he imagined it would have but Ian was nowhere to be found. He missed the guy.

“So, you’re Yev's dad?” Lip asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Mickey smiled proudly. He was damn happy that Yev was friends with the Gallagher’s. They seemed like good people and they seemed to care about him. “Yup, that’s what they tell me.” 

Lip laughed. “What are the odds huh? Yev practically lives at our house and now his dad is…” Lip trailed off, losing all resemblance of happiness. 

Mickey lost his smile as well. “I’m sorry by the way.” Lip looked up at him, blue eyes a little too shiny. “For Ian.”

He nodded. “Thank you. It’s…” he took a deep breath. “It’s gonna take a while to talk about it and not get upset.”

“I’m doin all that I can. I can promise you that, if nothing else.” His voice didn’t waver. “This is gonna be a fuck of a ride, finding out what happened, and I can bet it’ll get harder before we catch a break.”

Lip understood. “Way of the world and all that shit.”

“Is Fiona here still to take you home? I should probably get started on that prick, get some of the facts straight and put his ass in lock up so he doesn’t ghost us.”

“She’s probably talkin to that damn lawyer.” He scuffed, irritated. “I say I don’t want one, but she never listens.”

“She’s worried, for good reason. You don’t need one of those blood suckers right now but keep in mind that Raines has one and they are real good at tearin peoples stories to shit.”

Lip stood and followed Mickey out into the bullpen. “Yeah, been dealin with a collection of them since I could walk. We know how to get past all that shit.”

Mickey did not doubt that. If anything, the Gallagher’s knew how to handle themselves in any situation. “Good. You two head home and I’ll give a call when I know more of what’s goin on and where we’re at.”

Lip turned to offer his hand. “Thanks, for everything.”

Mickey shook it, squeezing hard like he would if Fiona hugged him. “It’s my pleasure.”

He waves at Fiona and watched them leave with their bottom feeder. Lawyers gave him the heebie jeebies. Always had. But it was good that Fiona called one anyway, despite him saying it wasn’t necessary. She was always looking out for her family.

Mickey moved back to his desk, made sure to grab the files he needed to talk to Raines with and headed down the hall towards the interrogation room. As he walked down the hall, he caught a flash of red hair in a room to his right. Mickey back pedaled and saw Ian currently pacing one of the windows.

Mickey stepped in and lightly shut the door and Ian had noticed his arrival. He smiled just as green eyes went wide and suddenly Ian was running at him full force, smashing into his body and looping those long ass arms around him. He returned the embrace, a little confused but happy for the closeness anyway.

“Hey, you okay?” 

Ian nodded, his face tucked into Mickey’s neck. “Yeah.”

Mickey’s hands moved up and down Ian’s back slowly, trying to get him to relax. He didn’t seem okay. He was nervous, worried maybe. Or upset. “You don’t seem okay.”

Ian hugged him tighter, breathing in the smell of his neck and behind his ear. “I was just worried. I had a bad feeling when you left.”

Funny, he had that same feeling when he left too. Things hadn’t gone as expected, they turned out better though. They finally had Raines in custody for something he wouldn’t just wiggle out of. But he didn’t think Ian would share that feeling.

He pulled back and Ian moved back enough to rest their heads together. They took a second to just breathe. It was incredible the amount of calm Ian brought him. Mickey was normally on edge 24/7 but Ian had a way of making shit better. 

“Hey.” He mumbled and rubbed his thumb over Ian’s crooked jaw.

Ian smiled. “Hey back.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

Ian nodded. “Fine. Better now.” He bumped their noses together, their mouths so close now.

Mickey knew what Ian wanted. Maybe it’s what he needed. Maybe it’s what they both needed. Reassurance that everything was okay. Mickey lightly traced Ian’s lips and tipped his head up to brush a feather light kiss against them. Ian inhaled sharply but didn’t kiss him. He just enjoyed being kissed like that. 

“I missed you.” Mickey mumbled and bumped their noses together again, total romance novel move. But it got Ian to smile again. He closed his eyes and kissed Ian again. This time, Ian’s arms circled him, one up his back, holding onto his shoulder, the other at the small of his back. 

“Missed you.” Ian mumbled into the second kiss, parting his lips enough to deepen the kiss but keep the slow speed.

Mickey let Ian lightly back him against the door, their lips locked in a slow kiss. It didn’t escalate until Ian let out that deep groan and Mickey suddenly needed to be closer. He wrapped his arm around Ian’s waist and pulled him closer until their fronts pressed together. 

His tongue slowly swept against Ian’s lower lip that drew another groan as thin lips parted and he was able to lick his way inside. Kissing Ian was becoming something that he needed, something he craved. Now that it had happened, he couldn’t get enough of it. 

They broke apart, breathing deeply against each other’s lips and that buzzing, tingling energy crackled like lightening between them. Whatever was connecting them was strong, undeniable and it felt fucking fantastic. It felt like he had been missing that feeling his entire life. Void of it. Chasing something that felt similar, but it was never like this with anyone else. 

“We need to talk about this.” Mickey whispered, trying not to break the mood, that wonderful feeling silence. But every time they came together, things had the tendency to go further. First a kiss, then more than one, then wandering hands and now that heat pooling in his groin. It was too much to ignore.

“I know.” Ian released his tight hold on Mickey’s shoulder and smoothed it down his back, dipping his fingers into his slacks to pull the shirt up enough to feel his skin.

Mickey swallowed a groan. That lick of excitement as Ian’s fingers danced along his ass was as dangerous as it was exciting. Not to mention the feel of Ian’s hand spanning the width of his lower back. 

“We really need to talk about this.” Ian breathed heavily, a little smile in the corner of his mouth.

Mickey nodded. “You gonna be around? I gotta get back at it but I don’t want you to leave.” It sounded so selfish when he said it like that, when he said it at all. Even feeling it felt selfish. It had been 2 hours since he told Ian he would be right back, and those 2 hours had felt like days. 

“Probably just gonna go haunt around your desk. See if I can scare Amara.” 

Mickey snorted and that brief serious moment was gone. “Gonna make groaning sounds now? Rattle some chains maybe?”

Ian took a step forward, eyes focused. “I was just making those sounds.”

Mickey swallowed thickly, his face heating up. “Don’t even go there Ian, not until we have that talk.” He playfully pushed him back, seeing that smug ass smile on his face.

“Alright, fine. Hurry up then cuz time drags on when you’re gone.”

It wasn’t fair. Any of it. Mickey sometimes forgot how hard it must be. Being a ghost? Spirit? Whatever the hell he was. Ian couldn’t do very much without him. Nothing really. Stuck in limbo until he was around. It fucking sucked.

Mickey walked the few steps he’d created between them when he pushed Ian away, grabbed him by the buttons of his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. He moved his tongue against Ian’s, desperately trying to say what he couldn’t. And Ian responded very well, he grabbed him by his hips and pulled him closer.

Turning his head, Mickey let out a deep groan, but Ian didn’t move away, he kissed along his jaw, nipped at his ear, then down to his neck. “Ian…” He whimpered and knew he should have moved away but he gripped Ian’s hair and held him close. 

“Each time I touch you, each time I kiss you…” Ian groaned and buried his face into his neck, trying to relearn how to breathe. “I feel hotter, I feel like me, I feel alive, real.” He slid his hand back inside Mickey’s shirt. “Fuck, I feel everything.” 

“I want you to be.” Mickey whispered against his ear, resting his head against the side of Ian’s. It was a fucking battle to beat the urge for more back, trying to think clearly enough to wait. To talk. “I really fucking want you to be real.”

Ian moved back, face flushed. “Think if we touch enough, I might be?”

Mickey smiled and he knew Ian was only partially serious. “After that talk, depending on how it goes, we’ll see.” 

Ian seemed pleased with that answer and placed one last kiss against his lips. “Hurry the fuck up then Mick.”

Mickey picked the files up off the floor that he dropped as soon as Ian hugged him, he tucked in the back of his shirt and suddenly couldn’t wait until later. Whatever that talk meant, whatever was said, it needed to clear up some shit. He gave Ian one last smile and hauled ass down to the interrogation room. 

**

“Why were you in Ian Gallagher’s apartment?” Mickey asked for the 3rd time and Raines had yet to talk to him. The handsome fucker just stared down at the table, unable to smirk like he wanted to due to the split lip Ian’s brother gave him.

Raines looked up and glared at him. Mickey pulled the chair out and finally took a seat. Pacing helped shake the feelings created with Ian and put them away for later. New, deadlier feelings were coming out now that still had everything to with Ian and he wouldn’t stuff those away.

“Look, we already got you for breaking and entering…actually, it can be considered burglary because you had the intent to steal from inside.” Raines clenched his jaw. “I already know you were after his meds. You wanna help yourself out here and tell me why?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Maybe that ass kickin you too fogged up your memory. No matter though, we have the meds. They are being tested right now and if, no…when we find something, you’re gonna get tagged with it.”

Still nothing. That was fine. He didn’t need him to confess to anything regarding to this afternoon. He was already going down for it. Mickey was just trying to put the pressure on him, to make him realize he was in deep shit and hope he would shed some light on the murder.

“Fine. I’ll let the D.A. and your piss poor lawyer talk that shit out.” He took out the photos of the finger prints lifted from Ian’s thighs, the bruises, and laid them on the table. “How about we talk about this.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Mickey saw blue eyes shift away. He was lying. “Let me lay it down for you then. Those,” he pointed to the bruises, “are your finger prints. We lifted them from the bruises on Ian’s thighs when someone forced his legs open.”

“No, that’s not what happened!” Zeppelin challenged and ran a bruised hand through his hair. “I didn’t rape anyone.”

Mickey’s brows lifted, they were finally getting somewhere. “No? Well, that’s what it looks like. Those bruises were made hours before his death, and since they belong to you and you claim it wasn’t rape, that means you were the last to see him.”

“I didn’t see him that day!”

Mickey leaned forward. “What day?”

“Don’t ‘what day' me man. The day he was killed.”

Raines was freaking out. His voice was up a pitch or two, he could keep his hands from fidgeting and Mickey could feel his leg bounce under the table. “What day?” he asked again, studying every feature of his face.

Raines didn’t answer which was expected but he’d gotten flustered over it which meant something. Guilty maybe, or nervous. “No comment huh? We also found your hair on him too. Wanna explain that?” it was a long shot. The hair was circumstantial, but he was hoping Raines would jabber on about more.

Zeppelin laughed. “That’s all you got man? My hair? He was my fuckin boyfriend, of course my hair is on him. Finger prints too.”

“Was your boyfriend. We have it on good authority that he dumped your abusive ass months ago.” Mickey smirked when Raines clenched his jaw. “Guess he found someone new huh? Someone who didn’t black his face.”

“I never gave him anything he didn’t want or ask for.”

Now Mickey clenched his jaw, along with his fists and he hoped to God Fuller or Amara was behind that glass watching. It was only a matter of time before he was reaching across the table to pop him in the face. 

“Oh, so it was a coincidence that the minute he tells his doctor about his new man, that he comes back with a black eye and doesn’t wanna talk about it?”  


Raines looked away.

“Or maybe he wanted you to back hand him on the floor at work, in front of everyone.” His anger was spiking. He could feel his blood boiling. “Maybe he wanted it so much, that he was happier when he dumped you. Happier with his new man, someone who treated him right.”

Raines scuffed. Good, means he hit a nerve.

“You got no idea what he wanted.”

Mickey shrugged, he did know though. Ian told him personally as if it wasn’t obvious. “Or I could be reading it all wrong.” He saw Raines sit up, curious maybe. “Maybe you were just a shitty lay.” 

That did it. That was the last straw and he didn’t move as Raines stood up and clocked him in the jaw. The hit was so hard, his chair tipped back as he fell to the ground. Mickey smiled through the pain and stood up just as Raines came around the table. He dodged the second swing easily, and the third one. It was too easy. The door opened and Mickey swung his fist back and hit him right in the abdomen. Raines doubled over, gasping for breath.

Amara pushed his way past the table and Mickey allowed him to angle his face to see his jaw. He waved it away and Amara moved to toss Raines up against the wall, face first, arms wrenched behind his back. 

“You’re under arrest kid, assaulting a police officer.” Amara chuckled as he grabbed his cuffs.

Zeppelin cursed, struggling. “This is bullshit! He was askin for it!”

“Cuff him but set his ass back down.” He wiped the small amount of blood that trickled from his mouth as Amara looked at him. “We have more shit to talk about.”

Amara cuffed him and sat him down at the table. “He may have been askin for it, but you swung first dumb ass. Now it’s your ass.”

Mickey grinned as he leaned against the back wall. There was a reason he told Yev not to swing first, this was why. If he’d been the one to hit Raines, it would probably cause a lawsuit. So, he got Raines to hit him. It was all about tactics. 

“Let me tell you what we do know, we know you abused Ian Gallagher, broke into his place, possibly compromised his meds, not to mention the bruises on his thighs and wrists and your hair.”

“You didn’t take my DNA. You have no proof it’s mine.”

Mickey flipped a few pages until he found the DNA match and showed it to him. “This is the DNA from the hair we found, and this is the DNA from when they swabbed you in Atlanta. Perfect fuckin match.”

“Circumstantial.” 

“Not to mention your priors. Disorderly conduct, stalking, abuse. Then in Atlanta, the attempted rape.” Mickey folded his arms, feeling the pulsing ache in his face. “What that is, is a pattern. We already got you for burglary and assaulting an officer.”

“I’m not gonna confess to a rape a murder when I didn’t do it!” He spat and jerked the cuffs. “Where’s my lawyer?”

The door opened and in walked Raines’ lawyer. Cheap suit and brief case included. “Feel free to talk over the charges, including the one you just racked up.”

“What is going on here?”

“What’s going on, is your client has an anger issue and decided to add assaulting a police officer to his list of accomplishments.” Mickey turned to show his jaw. “You need to tell your client to be truthful about this. If he cooperates, we can possibly knock off the lesser charges.”

Mickey was trying to bait the hook. He didn’t give a fuck about the B&E or the assault. That was a slap on the wrist compared to rape and murder. He was willing to work it out to get what he wanted. To get what Ian deserved. 

“I want the camera footage for this interview and why I wasn’t notified immediately upon his arrest.”

Mickey nodded and Amara went to get the tape. “The tape is yours, and by that, I mean feel free to look over it here and he didn’t ask for you until just now. If he had, we’d have called you.”

Amara handed the tape over. “If this shows anything other than what you’ve said—”

Mickey stepped up, getting pissed off. “It shows that it shows. Maybe tell him to calm the fuck down.”

“I’m right here!!”

“Be quiet!” They both shouted at him and shared a knowing smile. They both knew Raines was a prick. But lawyers got paid to represent them and Mickey got paid to put him in jail. They both would have to suffer for it. 

“We’ll give you a minute but if you can’t come to an agreement so we can get some real answers, he’s going to central booking.” Mickey grabbed the files and walked out with Amara, making sure there was an officer standing outside the door. It wouldn’t surprise him if Raines tried to weasel out of here.

Amara huffed out a nervous laugh as they walked down the hall. “Jesus Mick, you are gonna get an earful from Fuller.”

Mickey nodded but smiled. “Yeah, possibly. Probably. But it was fuckin worth it. He was lying through his teeth.”

“Yeah, but we expected that. And he was right, that evidence was circumstantial at best.”

A few other detectives passed them in the hall and Mickey offered a nod of his head. They grinned at him. 

“Nice job Milkovich. Takin a hit for the team?”

Mickey nodded as he turned towards them. “I’m all about that team work Elliot.” Elliot laughed his way back down the hall and that proud feeling washed over him. So worth it.

Mickey turned into the break room and poured them both some coffee and finally replied to Amara. “Yeah, I know. We need more. We need those damn tapes from The Fairy Tale.”

“Well, Raines' arrests gives us probable cause to search his home.” 

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You think?”

“I know so. Had the D.A. in the box with me. She’s gonna okay the warrant to search his place. It’ll probably be limited but it’s better than nothing.”

“Fuckin right it is!” He grinned. This is the break they needed. If they found something at his place, it could lead to the club and that would give them means for those tapes. He stopped short, as if he remembered something or just figured it out. “Hold up a sec.”

Amara stopped at the door. “What?”

“Did you call and ask for the tapes or did you submit a warrant for them?”

“You said warrant, so that’s what I did. The D.A. said we didn’t have enough.”

Mickey grinned, making his jaw ache and a laugh bubbled up in his throat. “Jesus Christ, I feel like a newbie right now.”

“What, why? What did we miss?”

“You told me they hated Raines, right? That they canned his ass?” 

“Yeah.”

“And we know Ian was their golden boy. They were practically cryin on the phone when we called them.”

“Okay…”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “We did this shit all wrong. They want to find out what happened to Ian. I’m gonna go fuckin ask for the damn tapes.” Brown eyes widened and he grinned. “We don’t need a damn warrant for that shit.”

“God damn. We are a bunch of newbies!”

Mickey clapped him on the shoulder. “Fuck, right? This is what we get for lack of sleep and shit.”  


“I heard that. I need a damn break.” 

Mickey could see the dark bags under Amara's eyes. This case had let them get more nights home than any other case. Mickey had spent 2 nights at home. And by new marks on Amara's neck, his lack of sleep was for a different reason.

“Wanna sit for a sec?” Mickey asked and took a seat where he and Ian had been the day before. Amara looked a little surprised at the offer but took a seat.

“What’s up man?”

“I know it’s a touchy subject, mostly cuz I’ve been a dick,” he rubbed his face. “But can I ask you about the person you’re seeing?”

Amara frowned and immediately went on the defense. “Mick—”

“Please? I won’t say anything stupid this time. I really do want to understand.”

“This about Ian and that married guy?” 

Mickey nodded. “I know his shit was bad, with Raines and the abuse and wanting to escape. I get that. I don’t get this Ned guys side. Married with kids, and happy. And I don’t get yours either.”

“Mickey, isn’t so cut and dry with that shit. It’s no black and white. With Ned, his kids are probably grown, he’s getting older and he found someone beautiful and got his attention.”

Mickey flinched. 

“Sometimes it’s that simple. It made them both feel good. With Nina and I, shit is just so stressful. I work all the time, I ever see her or them and when I do, all we do is fight. We fight so much that that window of time is over and I gotta go again.”

He’d never thought of it that way before. Yeah, he kept long hours too, but he didn’t have anyone to come home to like that. Yev was 16 and didn’t need him like he used to, didn’t want him around so much anymore. 

“We fight so much I don’t enjoy the time with them. They sleep and she’s mad, so I leave to cool off and find my way back to his house.”  


That caught his attention. His eyebrows practically floating above his head. A man? Amara liked men? Since when? 

“And before you go askin me too many questions, yes. I like guys too. Kinda thought you’d have picked up on that by now.”

It was true. Amara liked to flirt with him, tease him. But that’s what partners did. What friends did. Not once did he think Amara meant any of it. It had him thinking about every possible time they joked around, and he didn’t know what was a joke now.

“Mick, don’t make this weird okay? Bisexual is the term. And yes, him.” He sighed and pulled at his hair. “Being with him is so easy. I don’t have to work to be happy. I just am.”

Mickey looked over and saw a ghost of a smile on his face. Amara did seem happier at certain times now. Not all moody like he used to be. This might explain why.

“And yes, I feel bad about cheating. But I don’t know what to do. I want to be with him. I don’t want to be with Nina any more. It only makes me feel bad because we have to sneak around.”

“You don’t feel bad about doing that to her?” this is what he didn’t get. Hurting someone like that. 

“I do. But I know she isn’t happy with me either. I just haven’t had time to talk to her about any of it.”

“To break it off?”

Amara nodded. “I’m always gonna be there for my girls Mick, no matter what. But staying together just because, when you’re both unhappy…I just can’t.”

Mickey rubbed his shoulder and didn’t comment. It kinda made sense. The cheating still didn’t sit well but he kinda understood the why of it. Sometimes there was too much at risk, like children, but he didn’t want anyone to be married and still be unhappy. That wasn’t living. 

“Okay, enough of this shit.” He smiled when Amara snorted but briefly leaned into his arm. “We need to get those tapes, and I want to meet this Mister Lishman guy. Get a little insight as to why he was calling Ian all the time.”

“Well, I’m comin with you to get the tapes but I’ll skip the weird stalker part.”

Mickey agreed 100%. He didn’t need Amara and Lishman connecting on that level. It might help him to further understand and he did need to know when the last time Lishman called Ian and why. “Well, come on then. We fucked up and now we need to fix that shit.”  
**

Mickey stood inside the security office, hands stuffed into his pockets as they waited for the okay to claim the tapes. Amara stood next to him, looking a little more relaxed, even talking with the security guy. Probably the same one from when he came here the first time. 

It wasn’t like he’d never been in a strip club before, a gay one at that. He had, really. He used to frequent them often when Yev was living with Svetlana. But it was personal now. This was Ian’s work. They all knew him here. Spoke highly of him. 

And the tapes, they’d only asked for the outside ones but the moment the owners learned why they needed them, that Raines was a part of it, they insisted they take whatever they needed. Inside ones too which meant he was probably going to end up seeing Ian dance. 

He really didn’t want to see that. Okay…so that was a fucking lie. Of course he was interested in seeing that. Seeing what an alive Ian looked like. But he did not want to see Ian dancing for others. He wouldn’t freak out like Raines did, but it didn’t sit well with him. Maybe Amara would have to go through that footage alone and leave the outside shit to him. 

“Okay detectives, we got the all clear. You can take the tapes, but we need them back at some point.” 

Mickey nodded and accepted the box full of tapes. Old school VHS tapes. Apparently, they hadn’t updated their shit. It would take even longer to find the right sections, but it was more than they had this morning. “Thanks. We really appreciate this.”

“Anything to help get the guy who did this.”

Mickey and Amara said their goodbyes and slipped out into the cold, heading for their opposite cars. He still needed to head to the North Side and Amara was gonna head back and talk to Mags about Ian’s meds. “So, take these to Archie, maybe he can find a way to actually play these damn things.”

Amara took the tapes and placed them inside the car. “Let’s hope so or what do they pay him for.”

Mickey smiled and watched Amara drive away. He gave one more look at the flashing lights on the building before he got in and cranked the heat on, waiting for it to heat up. 

“You okay?”

Mickey jumped a little and Ian laughed. It had been awhile since he was able to sneak up on him like that. Ian was laying back in the passenger seat, looking at him. “Yeah, just tired.”

“Me too.” 

The sun had long since abandoned the sky, leaving it dark and cold but it was only around 7. “You okay?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, just cold.”

Mickey turned the heat on higher, shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Ian. He smiled and happily put it over his arms, up under his neck. “Better?”

“Much.”

It felt weird, just sitting there, not touching. They still needed to talk but he didn’t want to right now. He wanted to be close to Ian, to touch him. Mickey turned in his seat and Ian’s smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“What the hell happened to your face?” Ian gripped his chin and turned to see a forming bruise over his cheekbone, it was starting to swell a little.

Mickey grinned because he hardly felt the pain anymore. Ian’s cool fingers soothed it quickly. Mickey was more focused on the concerned looks and the gentle touching than the low pulse of the mark. “Took a hit for the team today. We needed someone to get mad and it worked.” 

“Why?” Ian ran his knuckles lightly over it, smoothing over his entire cheek now, not just the bruise. 

Mickey leaned into and nearly kissed his palm. “Just adding more to his list of mistakes. Only a few more and he’ll lose all sympathy from everyone and might be willing to talk.”

“Zeppelin did this.” Ian clenched his jaw so hard it cracked. “That motherfucker. He’ll be lucky if I don’t ghost walk his ass off a fuckin bridge.”

Mickey snorted because that would be a sight to see indeed. And it was also kinda sexy for Ian to be so angry over it. Over what happened to him. It’s best not to question it or dissect it too closely. This was need, not logic. “Kinda sexy when you’re mad.”

Ian blinked away the anger so fast it nearly made his head spin. Mickey was smirking, a little out of his element with the flirting but by the way Ian was looking at him now, the way his hand slipped to the back of his neck, long fingers grazing his ear…he wasn’t doing too bad.

“Please tell me we can have that talk now.”

It shouldn’t be so satisfyingly incredible to know Ian wanted more right now. He wanted to close that space between them, crawl into each other and fuckin live there. If only life…or death, in Ian’s case, was that easy. 

“Sorry to disappoint Ian, but I still have work to do before the end of my day.” Ian’s face fell but he didn’t move his hand, just added a bit if pressure that swept down his back. “But maybe we can talk as I drive?”

Ian nodded and took his hand back. “Better than nothing. Where we headed?”

Mickey bit his lip as he started the car. He was just as nervous about this as Ian would be. He didn’t want to meet another guy Ian was maybe involved with. But that was the grueling task if his glamorous job. “I gotta go talk to that person who kept calling you on a private number. He’s some rich North Side guy.”

Ian’s smile dropped and it felt like all the life and energy that was in the car a moment ago, had been sucked out. The sun and moon and stars torn away, leaving only the cold air. Ian didn’t look at him either, just stared out the dark window and Mickey knew that talk probably wasn’t going to happen. 

Part of the ride was silent. Mickey could guess that Ian didn’t want to talk about the rich guy for some reason. Probably because it soured his mood in under 5 seconds. Could this Lishman guy be the mysterious Ned with no name? Ian would have told him, right? He thought he might, he hoped he might. Maybe Ned gave Ian a fake name. That could be it instead of secrets. Guys, especially married guys gave fake names all the time. 

“So, you don’t wanna talk this out now?” Mickey tried for a topic change. He’d find out Lishman and Ned soon enough. “Come on, I thought you were so eager to…talk.” He chuckled when Ian tried to glare at him, but he looked like a pouty little puppy. 

“I do wanna talk. But you have to start.”

Oh, the attitude on this guy… Mickey smiled, happy when he received one back and tried to keep his thoughts straight…so to speak, and out of the gutter so they could have a serious conversation. 

“I know we have a connection, and I’m tired of asking why we have it in the first damn place. And I can also see that things have…shifted, between us.”

Ian nodded, eyes curious as he looked at Mickey’s face. “I felt it the moment it changed.”

Mickey whipped around to look at him. “You knew, the exact moment?” Ian nodded with a sweet smile. “When?”

“In your bed.”

Mickey tightened his grip on the wheel. He had a feeling Ian would say that. And that is when shit had shifted between them. Not just because that night they touched for the first time, but because of the closeness between them after. 

“You blush every time I say that.” Ian chuckled. “It’s sweet.”

Mickey scuffed but he knew Ian saw his smile. “Fuck. Okay then, it shifted into something…more intimate? Maybe. Definitely more something.”

“Does that bother you?”

He shook his head. “No. And that’s what bothers me, I think. Is what we’re doing weird…or creepy…even possible?” He felt that anxiety ball up and sit right on his chest. “Do you even like me like that?”

Ian frowned. “Of course I do Mick. I wouldn’t have done…well, any of that shit with you if I didn’t like you.”

Some of that pressure on his chest shifted. “Don’t take this wrong Ian, please…fuck, don’t take it wrong. But I’m the only one who can see you, touch you. Kiss you. I can’t help but think that’s the only reason.”

“I liked you before we touched. Or kissed. Or even crawled into that bed.” His voice was rising, and he tried to keep it at a reasonable level. “I know myself better to think that I'd only like you for that reason. But I only like people I feel I connect with.”

Mickey didn’t want to point Raines' name out, or this Ned guy. No doubt that Raines was a catch, and Ned…sounded like a creepy old man’s name. But Ian could have been fucking every guy or girl in Chicago with the way he looked. Yet he didn’t. He did have to have that connection.

He sighed and took one hand off the wheel and let it rest against Ian’s arm. Heat sparked between them and he felt a zap of energy he didn’t have before. “You can’t blame me for askin. I ask cuz I don’t want this shit….whatever the hell it is, whatever we are doing or not doing, to stop.”

“It won’t. I don’t want it to.”

Mickey nodded, relaxing a little more. “Each time we touch, it goes further.” Ian looked at him but was silent. “I don’t even realize it happens until after.”

“I just go with what feels right Mick. I don’t think I have to think or worry about stuff like that anymore. I’m already on borrowed time.”

Ian’s voice was soft again and it held that watery sound like he was one word away from crying. “Please don’t say shit like that Ian. Borrowed time? What the hell does that even mean?” he pulled up to a red light.

Ian sniffled. “It means that I’m dead. Gone. Not alive. So whatever is keeping me here, however I’m able to stay is just bonus time. Borrowed. Sooner or later I’m going to have to give it back.”

God damn…fuck. Holy fuck! Is all that went through Mickey’s mind. Borrowed time. Borrowed….not infinite. That means what? That Ian would have to leave? Die again? Can a ghost die again? Or was that called ‘moving on'? Panic set in and his hands started to shake so bad the car swerved.

Ian grabbed the wheel just in time, he nearly side swiped a parked car. And he could see Ian’s mouth moving but it’s like the sound was off, muted. Mickey steered the car towards and empty lot and fumbled as he tried to put it in park. 

Icy cold hands grabbed his face, Ian. Pulling his head so he met wide green eyes. Freaked eyes. Panicked, like him. But he couldn’t make out what he was saying yet. Ian was going to leave him. He wouldn’t be able to talk or see him, no smiles or weird touches. Ghosty shoes on his floor or Ian in his jacket. Nothing. Mickey would be alone again. He would know that sweet taste of happiness and watch as it got yanked away, leaving him a broken shell of the man he once was. 

“Fuck…fuck!” he mouthed and by Ian’s wince, he’d screamed it.

“Mick!!” Ian shouted, cupping his face, stroking his cheeks. “Please!”

As if a switch had been turned, he could hear again. The pounding of his heart came first. Then the quickness in which he was trying to breathe. Panting, hyperventilating, sobbing. He was fucking crying. So was Ian. Tears stained his freckled cheeks, making green eyes a little puffy and red. 

“You can’t leave.” He blurted, not recognizing the sound of his own voice. It was so wrecked, so lost. “Ian. Fuck, please don’t. Just please don’t fucking leave.”

“Shhh baby,” Ian put their heads together, his hands on Mickey’s wet cheeks. “Breathe with me okay…” he breathed in, then out.

Mickey watched him breathe and did his best to copy it. In and out, deep breath in until his chest hurt, then out until his lungs screamed. It was working. His heart didn’t feel like it might explode any moment and his head wasn’t pounding so hard. This was working. Ian was working.

“There we go.” Ian cooed and brushed his hand through Mickey’s hair. “I won’t leave unless I have to.” 

When he tried to speak, one of Ian’s fingers pressed against his lips.

“I won’t go unless whoever the fuck is in control drags me away from you.” Ian stroked his cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “I don’t know how the hell we found each other Mick, but it’s real, it’s fucking real and I won’t let it go.”

The tears started again, against his will but not like before. They were silent, soft sliding down his cheeks and Ian quickly swept them away with his thumbs. Mickey let his hands rest against Ian’s face and God, he was so fucking beautiful. This beautiful, tragic creature wanted him. HIM. Mickey Milkovich. Ian wanted him for whatever reason, and it was real. 

“Promise?” His voice was rougher than he imagined it would be. So much emotion. But Ian smiled like he was the fucking sun and moon. “I don’t think I can take it if it’s not real.”

Ian brushed their noses together, never breaking eye contact. He grabbed one of Mickey’s hands and put it under his shirt, against his skin right over his heart. Mickey gasped as Ian did the same, sliding a hand under his shirt to feel his heart.

“Just listen baby. Listen and feel it.” Ian closed his mouth and tried to hush his breathing.

Mickey did the same. He kept his eyes locked on Ian and slowed his breathing. Maybe it took seconds, or maybe it took hours, but he felt it. The beat of Ian’s heart matched his own. Patter for patter. Each pulse lined up with Ian’s. They beat together, strong and steady. 

“I feel it.” The excitement made his heart pound, which made Ian’s pound under his palm. “It’s real.”

Ian grinned and kissed him quickly. “We are fuckin real.”

Mickey laughed but noticed neither of them bothered to take their hands back. His hand slid to Ian’s neck, rubbing over his pulse. “I’m gonna need you to kiss me now.”

Ian gave that deep groan and let his thumb align with Mickey’s jaw, pushing down so it slightly dropped, and his lips parted. “I can do that.”

The kiss was everything. Fast and slow, deep but intimate in every way. From the way Ian turned his head from one side to the next, or how his other hand also ended up Ian’s shirt, resting on his side. The windows fogged as that heat they created blasted between them.

Mickey groaned as Ian sucked on his lower lip before he let it go with a plopping sound. He opened his eyes to see Ian towering over him, his back up against the door, giving Ian plenty of room. His eyes were so dark, his lips slick and a drop of sweat dripped next to his ear. 

Something he’d never seen before and he didn’t question why. Mickey leaned to the side and licked that drop away. From the middle of his neck, then up in front of his ear. 

“Mick…” Ian groaned and panted against his lips. “Can we do this North Side shit tomorrow?”

Mickey nodded. It didn’t matter that they were only a block or so away from Lishman's house. The timing was bad after all that. Lishman could wait. “Home?”

Ian nodded and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Home.”


	8. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey learns the identity of Yev's boyfriend and doesn't handle it well...

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 8- Wrath

Mickey unlocked the door as quietly as he could, gripping the loose keys that dangled so they wouldn’t jingle and draw any attention. He winced when the lock clicked open, and the squeak as the door slowly parted for them to step inside. Each sound echoed, vibrating all around them like it was on surround sound.

Maybe it was because the apartment was so quiet. At only 8 o’clock, if Yev was home, there should have been something besides the heat kicking on and the sound of their shoes squeaking from the snow. But maybe Yev wasn’t home. 

“Yev?” Mickey called out and waited for an answer. There was no reason for him and Ian to sneak in. Yev couldn’t even see him so the whole thing felt silly. This was his house. He didn’t have to sneak.

“Maybe he’s not here.” Ian shivered by the door way and leaned closer to Mickey.

The need to wrap his arm around Ian was there. Mickey wanted to wrap him up and make him warm again but until he found out if Yev was here or not, he needed to be careful. So far, he’s gotten away with having a dead guy around, he didn’t need to break that streak.

Instead, Mickey walked into the kitchen and looked on the fridge where he and Yev posted all of their messages. Phone calls were hard because he couldn’t always get to it. So they opted for this, and Yev’s message said he was staying at Carl’s. 

“I guess he’s stayin with Carl.” Mickey turned as he spoke but didn’t realize how close Ian was. Barely 2 feet apart. 

Ian’s voice was low, deep. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

Heat instantly radiated off Ian’s body, replacing the cold. It seemed to happen with intimate moments like these. Mickey met his eyes and both the excitement and fear hidden in emerald eyes. 

“I think it’s a bit of both.” Mickey breathed just as deep. He was sure his eyes darkened like Ian’s. 

Why it was both bad and good was obvious. They had full reign of the house. No fear of Yev thinking he was insane, no reason to be quiet when he talked or when they touched. But the possibilities were endless now. They could do anything…anything. And that was the fear. Where was the line drawn? Was there even a damn line to begin with? He had no fucking idea anymore. 

“At least I don’t have to worry about you pulling away.” Ian slid his arms around Mickey’s waist, bringing his back to rest against his chest. “I hated that.”

Mickey smiled and relaxed back against his chest. He didn’t go as far as linking his hands with Ian’s, he still needed to get over his intimacy issues and accept that Ian wanted him. 

“Me too. Ain’t gotta do that now though.” He tilted his head to the side and looked up to see Ian looking right down at him. Ian followed as he licked his lips and bent down to kiss them. Mickey sighed heavily, relaxing further if it were possible. One of Ian’s hands moved to hold his face, guiding his mouth open to slide inside.

The first sweep of Ian’s tongue had him tingling all over. His body hot and over sensitive, a live wire. Mickey brought Ian down by the back of his neck and turned his lower body until they were facing each other. His arms tangled around Ian’s neck, standing on his tip toes while Ian wrapped those long arms around him like a cage. 

When Ian pushed him back, Mickey stumbled over his feet until his body lay flat against the fridge with Ian pinning him. He let out a groan of approval and let one hand slip down to push up under Ian’s shirt. Up the hard plans of his body, soft, warm skin until his palm lay flat against Ian’s heart. 

“Mick.” Ian’s husky voice sounded between kisses. 

“I need to feel it.” He mumbled back, heads pressed together as his hand rubbed over Ian’s chest. “I need to feel it beating all the time.”

When Ian stepped back, Mickey thought he’d finally done something to push him away, until Ian took his hand and led him down the hallway and into his room. Alone with Ian in his room. Fuck, this was the fear again. But Ian didn’t pressure him into anything. He just stood there, smiling. Feeling. Living. Ian toed off his shoes and Mickey grinned, he couldn’t help it. “Little Ghosty shoes.”

Ian snorted and kicked them aside. “You love it.”

His smile slipped into something more comfortable. “Yeah, I do.” Ian smiled and walked back up to him and when he stood between his boots, Ian’s hands rose and fell back behind his head, gripping his shirt to pull it up and over, leaving him shirtless and so fucking sexy.

“God damn.” Mickey mumbled as he bit his lip. Ian’s body was perfect. Pale skin with cute freckles placed randomly, that v-cut of his hips made Mickey want to lick across it, up to a solid 8 pack, hard and he wanted to count them with his tongue. His chest was broad, firm, his nipples hard and that cute shade of pink only red heads get. But his shoulders…fuck, those wide shoulders. 

So much damage could be done with those. His mind dropped into the gutter the moment he realized they were alone, but this was a step ahead of that. This was porn playing on a loop in his mind. 

“Work out much?” Mickey tried to play off how much he liked it and Ian didn’t believe a fuckin word of it. That fucker had the cockiest smirk Mickey had ever seen plastered on his face. 

“You love it.” He repeated again and grabbed Mickey’s hand to place it back against his heart. The starry eyes turned into something deep and serious the second he felt it beat. “Now you?” he asked hopeful and tugged at his shirt.

Mickey gulped but nodded. His body was in decent shape for being 10 years older than Ian. In no way did it look like his though. Ian had a damn torso for days, abs of steel and shoulders wide enough to ride. But Mickey was fit, as fit as he could be, but no one had seen him shirtless in this context in a while. 

When he didn’t move to unbutton it, Ian slowly unbuttoned each little button until Mickey could feel the air hit his chest. Ian growled and peeled it off his shoulders and all he could do was fuckin blush and let Ian ogle him. He refused to remove his hand so the shirt dangled at his elbows and he couldn’t meet Ian’s eyes as he fully looked at him.

“Holy shit.” Ian took in as much as he could, as fast as he could before Mickey changed his mind and covered up that gorgeous body. “I want to lick you all over.”

Heat blasted it’s way up his face and that shiver crawled up his spine. He wanted Ian to do many things to him, including licking him all over but he felt they weren’t quite there yet. By God they’d better do something, but sex was not it. Maybe it never would be. 

“I don’t know how far we should take this.” Mickey closed his eyes when Ian’s palm pressed over his heart. That rubber band of connectivity thrummed between them, linking them forever. 

“I’m good with anything you are, or nothing.” Ian stepped back up to him, running his hands up Mickey’s smooth skin. “It’s up to you.”

Mickey shivered under his touch, his body twitching with the need for more contact. This, whatever it was, needed to be taken slow even if that was the opposite thing on his mind. He wanted to go fast, to drive in resurface when they were sated. 

“Let’s just…” he nodded at the bed and took a step back towards his side. Ian just stayed there, watching him with hungry green eyes and Mickey fought the urge to fidget or lash out from the attention. But this was Ian and it was okay. 

Mickey kicked off his shoes, put his belt and his gun on the side table and let his pants fall to the floor. He pulled back the blanket and slipped inside, laying on his left side, facing the empty side, Ian’s side. Ian seemed to snap out of it, and he moved to the empty side of the bed and Mickey watched intently as Ian dropped his jeans and stood in a tight pair of briefs that showed him everything.

Mickey forced his eyes to stay on Ian’s as he pulled the blanket back and slipped between the sheets, laying as they had done for the past two nights. “C'mere.” Mickey pulled Ian close by the back of his neck and Ian moved willingly into his arms. Ian’s arms went around his neck and soft skin pressed against the front of his body.

“Ian…” Mickey gasped when one of Ian’s thighs slipped between his own, not moving, just resting there. He wound one hand into Ian’s hair, the other resting on the small of his back. 

“Mickey please.” Ian whined and let one hand move down to Mickey’s chest, soaking up the warmth of his skin. 

The kiss was far from chaste, Mickey fisted Ian’s hair and slipped his tongue inside to move with Ian’s. Swallowing every groan, his hands moving over Ian’s flawless skin, gripping his hip so his hands didn’t wander to lower places. Ian was right there with him too, moaning into each kiss, nipping his bottom lip before licking the sting away.

Each kiss, each touch made harder not to go further. The way Ian’s body felt against his, so solid, so real and warm and soft. He never wanted to let go. When Ian’s finger lightly moved across one of his nipples, his hips bucked without his consent and pushed right up against Ian’s thigh, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure up his spine.

“Fuck Ian.” He groaned as he broke the kiss but kept their faces together. Ian still hadn’t moved his leg, but the intent was there. Mickey focused on how hard Ian was breathing, how dark his eyes were and decided they needed to do something, anything. He moved so one of his legs mimicked Ian’s and slipped between strong thighs and felt Ian hard against him.

“What—” 

Mickey silenced him with a wet kiss, his right hand moved under the sheets and pulled Ian’s thigh up by the back of his knee, bringing it up against his own. When he pushed forward, his thigh slid up against Ian’s groin and he let out the deepest groan Mickey had ever heard. 

“God!” Ian knocked their heads together, his hand moved down Mickey’s chest, around his body and down to grip his ass. “Mickey.”

Mickey groaned, rolling his body against Ian’s thigh and nearly sobbing at the desired friction he’d been craving. “Move against me.” Mickey whispered against his lips, urging Ian to move with a firm hand on his thigh.

“W-what?” Ian’s brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment. Too wrapped up in the heaven that was Mickey’s body.

Mickey blushed. He only had the balls to say it the first time because he was drowning in lust and now Ian wanted him to say it again. Ian’s hips had already started jerking forward but like he was nervous or unsure if he should. “Fuck, don’t make me say it again.”

“I seriously didn’t hear you.” Ian nipped along his jaw, rubbing his own cheek against the stubble there. “Say it again.”

Mickey tucked his head down into Ian’s chest and licked cross his chest. He was already blushing, and he hadn’t even said it yet. “Move against me Ian.” He rolled his hips forward to demonstrate and Ian moved, finally. 

“God Mick,” he moaned and nearly stroked out when he looked down to see Mickey’s hips rocking against his own. “So fucking happy I can feel this shit.”

Mickey grinned and moved his head back up to see the slack jawed look on Ian’s face. He no longer looked pale but flushed red, panting and sweat built on his forehead, between his shoulder blades. Ian felt so fucking good, better then he should in his current ghostly state. To him, right at this moment, Ian was real, alive and his.

A particularly rough grind had Mickey’s orgasm rushing to the surface. He gripped Ian’s thigh hard and kept going. “Fuck, I feel it.” 

“I think I do too.” Ian trembled and let his nails scrape down Mickey’s back until their body’s moved together faster. 

Mickey was able to bark out a laugh, but it soon choked a groan from him. “Think you will?”

Mickey could see how nervous Ian was. Eyes dark but wide, hoping he’d be able to make that last step and feel all of it. Mickey grabbed his face, making Ian see his eyes. “Just keep watchin me Ian. Don’t take your eyes off me.”

Ian nodded and his body moved on it’s own. It was driving Mickey crazy, rutting hard against him, holding on and he could see the moment Ian got there. “Oh God, Mick!” Ian moved faster, holding on and never looking away from him.

“Me too.” He panted and gave himself over to it. “You gotta come with me Ian, Fuck. Please.”

“Shit…shit…shit!!” Ian growled and came, hard and fast and excruciatingly good. 

Mickey watched for as long as he could, but the moment Ian’s nails dug into his back, he was done. “Ian!” he screamed as he came inside his boxers. They both moved their hips until the after shocks dissipated and he pulled Ian in for a kiss.

Their legs fell, unable to keep up the position. The kiss was just as deep and fast as it usually was, but they couldn’t stop smiling enough to kiss for long periods at a time. Mickey pulled away, breathing hard, eyes heavy. “God damn.”

Ian chuckled and brushed Mickey’s hair back. “I can’t believe that actually happened.”

Mickey blushed again and tucked his face into Ian’s neck. “Yeah, we just keep learning new shit every day.” His hand moved over Ian’s chest, then down to his stomach, over the hard bumps of his abs. Fuck, he was beautiful 

“Thank you.” Ian’s lip quirked up into a smile.

“Huh?” Mickey moved back and smiled at his smile.

“You called me beautiful.”

Mickey shook his head. “Thought that was just in my head.” He didn’t take it back or regret it. Ian was fucking next level beautiful. “I guess we should clean up huh?” the stickiness inside his boxers was less than desirable and Ian’s had to be too. 

“Gonna have to let me wear your underwear Mick.” Ian smirked and rolled over, untangling from the heat of Mickey’s body.

“Don’t think you’ll fit.” Mickey mumbled as he stood on weak legs and glanced down at Ian’s groin before he moved away. No way he was gonna get hard just after an orgasm. He wasn’t 18 any more.

“You say the nicest things.” Ian chuckled happily when a pair of boxers landed on his face. “Gonna make me go to the bathroom?”

Mickey nodded. “Damn right. Us naked is…fuck, I can’t handle that shit now.”

Ian gave a knowing smile and walked the few steps into the bathroom. “Fine but stay close or I won’t be able to put this shit on.”

Mickey’s eyes were glued to Ian’s ass as he moved. Firm and just the right amount of perkiness. Ian caught him looking and he fuckin blushed again. “Just go Ken, I need to change.”

Ian laughed and stepped inside the door but didn’t close it all the way. “Yes Miss Barbie, right away.”

His eyebrows rose high on his head. Barbie? Fuck, he should have seen that coming. Mickey snorted as he wiped himself down and changed into clean boxers. The bathroom door opened, and Ian stepped out looking like a damn model.

“Cover that shit up.” He picked up Ian’s clothes but tossed them aside. 

“Don’t cover that shit up.” His eyes raked up and down his body, enjoying each and every pass. 

Mickey was about to toss a damn pillow at him when he heard the sound of two voices inside the apartment, followed by a door closing, then footsteps by Yev’s room, and another door. Ian quirked an eye at him. “I guess he doesn’t know I’m home?”

Ian shook his head. “Mick, I heard two voices.”

It took a moment to figure out what that mean, what Ian was saying. Two voices. Yev and his much older boyfriend. “No fucking way. He wouldn’t be that stupid.” 

Ian just looked at him. “He might if he knows you’re not gonna be here.”

“But my car—” 

Ian shook his head. “You parked in the other lot remember. Someone had your space.” 

Would Yev really do that? Even with how he felt about his son seeing someone way too old for him. Mickey gave Yev a lot of freedom. Only asked for the truth, for him to be safe and to keep him in the loop if something was serious. Did he end up giving him too much freedom?

“Son of a bitch…” Mickey cursed and went to the closet to grab his baseball bat. Ian’s eyes widened when he saw it, clearly about to argue with him. Mickey shook his head. “I could have grabbed my gun.”

Ian just nodded, unable to do more than stand there like a mannequin. But when Mickey moved, he moved.

He opened the door slowly, so it didn’t make a sound and slowly crept passed Yev's closed door. He wanted to see if he could find out who it was before he busted down that door. The lights remained off in the living room, but the stove light gave him enough to see without falling. 

Mickey gripped the bat harder as distant groaning sounds, muffled by Yev’s door, reached his ears. Even Ian winced. There were a pair of dark boots by the door, a heavy jacket beside Yev’s on the hanger and a box of VHS tapes…from The Fairy Tale.

“Holy shit.” Ian knew what that meant. Who it was and he was blown the fuck away. 

Mickey took a moment to try and see if this was fake. If his mind was playing games. He moved to the box and saw each tape that Amara had taken to the precinct. Or said he did. He couldn’t believe it. All this time, all those shared touches, glances, phone calls. Yev calling Amara ‘Nick'. 

Then Amara’s affair…with a man!! A teen? The hickies on both of their necks. How could he have been so fucking blind? The entire time…behind his back. In his face. The whole fucking time. 

“Mick, just fuckin breathe.”

He ignored Ian as he dropped the bat and ran quickly back into his room. Ian was cursing the whole time, talking, trying to get him to calm down. But he was way past that point. He made sure the gun was loaded, pushed passed a freaked out Ian and moved to Yev’s door.

The moaning had gotten louder…then it was quiet. Everything was. Ian’s mouth moved but no sound came. He didn’t hear when the heat kicked on or the moans that still sounded from inside. Nothing, as the rage took over but the pounding of his heart, or the betrayal that slashed through it.

Mickey lifted his leg and kicked just beside the door knob and the door blasted open, smacking hard against the wall. He would never be able to unsee it. Yev down to his boxers on the bed, Amara between his legs, shirtless kneeling on the floor. They both stopped, jumped and gave him wide eyes. The fear was as real as it would ever be.

“Dad…” Yev sobbed.

The sound clicked back on and he could hear the tremble in Yev’s voice. Amara moved slowly at the sound of him cocking the gun back, hands slowly moving up in the air.

“Dad please—” 

Mickey cut him off with a look. One look. He walked forward, wearing only his boxers and pointed the barrel of the gun right in the middle of all that dark hair.

“How fucking dare you…”  
**

Mickey could never understand how a person could go from loving someone, to hating them in a single moment. It never happened to him before. Not like that. He either liked someone or hated them. The people he liked, stayed that way. They stayed closed, looked after each other. Same with the people he hated. He always hated them, probably always would. He went out of his way to avoid them. 

In this moment, with his best friend on his knees with his hands in the air, Mickey felt it. That love, that friendship, turned to ash and darkness, it turned to hate. Like a switch had been flipped. Light to dark. Sun to moon. Live to death. This morning Amara was someone he trusted, someone he loved deeply, and in the evening, he hated him. That trust was broken, shattered into dust. No pieces left to pick up and glue back together. 

That trust, that love, is what kept him in the dark. It kept him from seeing the truth. His best friend, his partner…was fucking his underage son. In what world was that okay? Did they even have a level in Hell reserved for people who did that? 

“Mickey…”

He could barely hear Ian’s voice over the pounding of his heart. It didn’t matter what volume level Ian was on, he wouldn’t listen to him, not about this. Nothing Ian or Yev and damn sure not Amara, could do to change his mind about this. 

The gun in his hand never shook. It remained pointed to the back of his head, steady and accurate. If he pulled the trigger….or when he pulled it, the front of Amara's face would be gone. Much like their trust. 

“Baby, please don’t do this.”

The term of affection was enough to zero in on Ian’s soft voice. Ian was begging him, pleading with him not to do this. Yev was too. His son was huddled against the wall as he sat on his bed, his bare legs tucked into his chest and wide, scared blue eyes. Even that wasn’t enough to snap him out of it.

“He deserves it.” Mickey finally spoke, to Ian. But to Yev and Amara, it seemed like he was speaking to them instead. Yev let out a sob and cried harder. Tears streaking down his face. “You deserve it!” He pushed the gun forward, hoping it would leave a sore spot.

“Look at me Mick!”

His eyes moved from Amara's dark hair to Ian’s watery eyes. Everything he saw was out of focus now, blurry, aside from Ian. He was clear and perfect. 

“Good. That’s good baby. Now please, put the gun down.”

Mickey shook his head and a tear flew from his cheek onto his arm. How long had he been crying? The whole time? He hadn’t felt it. He didn’t feel anything but rage. In that moment, he knew he lost his friend, shit, probably his only friend. He lost Yev a little bit too, that trust. That deep connection was so dim now. 

“Turn around.” His voice sounded like a demon straight from hell. Amara turned around, shame all over his stupidly handsome but ugly as fuck face. Amara hated himself just a little right now, but Mickey hated him more. When brown eyes lifted to his own, he could see the shame, the self hatred, the betrayal…but Mickey did not see regret. 

“It’s real okay? I fuckin feel that it’s real.”

That’s what Yev had told him. That the age gap didn’t matter because it was real. Amara said the same thing. Amongst other bullshit. Leaving his wife for Yev… That being with Yev was easy, it was real. 

He wanted to be sick. 

Ian’s hand was stead on his shoulder, gripping lightly. Maybe trying to hold him back, maybe just saying he was there. Or Ian wanted him to hesitate, take a beat and work this out.

“You get to say one thing to me right now. Just one.” He tightened his grip on the gun. “If you say the wrong thing, if it’s not what I want to hear…” he didn’t need to finish that sentence. The end result was obvious. 

“Dad please don’t.” Yev begged, crying and holding his legs.

His heart strings pulled, just a little. But he didn’t deviate. He would, he had been restraining himself for Yev. If not for him, Amara would be on his way, 6 feet under. 

Mickey turned back to Amara, who tried to look at Yev and Mickey turned his head back to it’s original spot with the gun. “Do not look at him.”

“Just stay with me Mick. You can do this. Just please, please put it down.” Ian tugged on his free hand, begging him.

When Amara finally spoke, it was almost too soft to hear. “I love him Mick.”

Mickey shook off Ian’s hand, swung his back as it gathered force and shoved it right into Amara's face. His head snapped back, a sickening crunch let Mickey know he broke his nose. Blood dripped immediately and Yev cried harder because of it. But Amara didn’t move. He didn’t cradle his broken face or try to fight back.

“Wrong fucking answer.” Mickey growled and switched his gun to his left hand and hit Amara with the newly freed right one. That punch connected under his jaw, hitting him so hard that he fell back. 

“Nick!” Yev screamed and moved to the floor.

Mickey didn’t touch Yev. He never would. No matter what. He panted, hard and heavy and each new breath made him feel that much more. That hurt inside. That emptiness. He watched as Yev cradled Amara's head and held a shirt to his nose, brushing back his hair.

“What now?”

Ian sounded low. Not mad or crying, just soft. Distant again and maybe this was his way of losing Ian too. Severing that newly formed bond before it sucked him dry and left him a shell. Maybe it saved him from the inevitable heart ache when Ian had to go, when this case was closed. 

What now? He didn’t know what now. He was not prepared to ever have to deal with something like this. All he knew was that he never wanted to see Amara ever again. And Yev…he just couldn’t. He turned back to them, holding each other.

“Pack your shit Yev. I’m callin your mom and she’s comin to get you.” Yev did not argue. He didn’t dare. Then Mickey turned to Amara. “I’m going to get dressed, then take those tapes to fuckin look at them. If I see you around me anywhere, anywhere, I will fuckin shoot you.”

They knew not to answer him back. He turned and walked out, not caring if Ian followed and went to get dressed as he called Svetlana. It was late, but she wouldn’t hesitate to come get him.

“Hello?” She answered sleepily.

“I need you to come get Yev. Like right now.”

“What has happened?” 

Mickey grabbed his shoes and sat to tug them on when Ian stepped in front of him. Thank God. He didn’t mean when he said he didn’t care if Ian followed. At the moment, that’s all that was keeping him from going insane.

“He got mixed up in some shit and I have to take care of it. Have him tell you.”

“Okay, be there soon.”

He ended the call and tossed it aside as his entire body caved into it’s self. Now that the rage had started to wear off, he was feeling again. Feeling all of it and it fucking hurt. It hurt worse than getting shot or stabbed, it hurt worse than a beating from Terry. 

“Fuck.” It came out as a sob, a pathetic sound and his body started to shake. Tears were unstoppable now, steaming down his face and making Ian a blurry water mark. “Fuck, it hurts.”

Ian sniffled and Mickey felt his strong arms around his head, pulling him to lay his cheek on his stomach. Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist and buried his face as he cried. With Ian’s fingers running through his hair, he low sound of his words, whatever those might be. Probably something so Ian like and sappy but wonderful. 

“Just feel it Mick. Right here, with me.” Ian kissed the top of his head. “I’ve got you.”

He really hoped Ian had him since it was clear now that he was alone. Maybe he had always been alone. But now he could be alone with Ian. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he would fade into a ghost or spirit, whatever Ian was, and he could just be free. Free of all the hurt that plagued his body right now. 

“Please don’t leave.” Mickey mumbled into Ian’s skin, laying a soft kiss against him. “I can’t—just please, don’t leave.”

“Oh Mick.” Ian squeezed tighter, holding his heart and body together with just his arms. The moment he let go, Mickey would crumble at his feet. “I’m never going to leave you, okay? Not ever.”

**

After Svetlana came to get Yev, without a word spoken from the 3 of them, Amara was gone, and Mickey put Ian and the tapes into his car and hauled ass to the precinct. It was late, like after midnight late, but it was like a hospital, always operational. 

He and Ian didn’t speak after his melt down. There was no need. They knew what they felt and kept it simple. And Ian hadn’t yet to leave his side. He held his hand against his chest, bringing it up every now and then to feel the warmth in Ian’s hand, then dropped it back to his chest.

Now it was time to get answers, real ones. His first stop once he got there, was Archie. He dealt with all things computer and electronics. The little nerd was a godsend. He needed the tapes gone through, searching for the night he was killed and anyone who might have been there. 

Archie was about to leave but one look at his red, puffy face and the kid didn’t bother. He sat right back down and went to work. Archie said 2 hours tops, and that was better than nothing. Although, they would have already been done if Amara had….nope! Not going there. 

His second stop was the morgue, which he made Ian wait outside the elevator for that one. No way did the kid need to see any part of that dark, gloomy place. His body was already there, waiting for them to solve it, Ian didn’t need any more reasons to be sad.

Thank fuck Mags was at her desk, glasses perched on her nose as she was engrossed in a mass amount of paper work. He knocked lightly as he came in and she looked up, surprised. 

“Hey Mickey, you okay?”

Her concerned voice made him itch. If one more person asked him that, he was going to start shooting. She meant well but he just couldn’t handle it now. 

“Yes. Just working.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to be a dick. Ian’s words. “I know it’s late, but I need anything you have. Did you ever find out cause of death?”

Mags wanted to pry but she flipped through her notes instead. “Yes, I did. After you dropped off Ian’s meds, I ran it. The cause of death was simple after that.”

His eyebrows rose. “Okay, so what?”

“Ian died of an over dose.”

Mickey rubbed his face, so tired it wasn’t even funny. “Mags, you told me all the shit he had in his system. If it was an OD how come it took so long?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “No offense.”

“Some taken but I’ll let it go. And you’re right. It took me too long because I wasn’t expecting it. Ian died of a fentanyl over dose.”

“Like the pain patches?” 

She nodded. “It wasn’t injected, snorted or swallowed. I found a glue-like residue on his upper left arm. I tested it and swabbed the skin around it and found traces of it.”

“Would that normally cause an OD?”

“Not normally that quickly. It can take a massive amount to OD on, but this was added with his bipolar meds and thr other drugs and it burnt him out.”

“Aren’t those patches prescription?” Mickey nodded and leaned against the window. He could see Ian pacing the doorway to the elevator.

“Yes, but it’s like every other drug. You just have to know where to find it.”

“But if it was on his left arm, he had to know it was there, right?”

“You would think so. It’s widely used for pain and it comes in different does with each patch depending on the patient. He could have agreed to use it but was lied to about the dosage, or it could have been applied without him knowing.”

How was that possible? Mickey thought it would be easy to feel if someone randomly put a sticky patch on your arm. But then again , Ian had been very busy and in contact with a number of guys, any of which could have stuck one to him. 

“So, you mentioned Ian’s meds at home? How does that deal with a fentanyl patch?”

“It doesn’t. It seems someone switched out one medication with sugar pills.”

Mickey just blinked dumbly at her. Was she pulling his leg? She didn’t look like it. She looked as tired as he felt. “Sugar pills, seriously?”

“Yes. No effect on the body but it meant that Ian wasn’t taking his antipsychotic meds.”

Mickey cursed. “Fuck, that might explain why he was bordering on a manic episode. Seeing shit, seeing his ex everywhere like Ian told Doctor Parker.” 

Mags nodded. “That’ll do it. Now, we won’t know for sure if he was a willing participant for the patch, but I’m sure he wasn’t aware of the pills.”

“He wouldn’t use the patch Mags. I have it on good authority that he was taking his meds. That he was on track. I can’t see him taking anything else.”

“How do you explain all the other drugs I found?”

Fuck, he’d nearly forgotten that. Ian did have a hefty mount in his system when he died. He couldn’t explain that unless he talked to Ian. “Fuck, okay. Any chance he was forced to take those?”

“Well, his arms are free of track marks, so he wasn’t a junkie. So when I found a small injection site between his toes, it made me question it. It’s possible he was injected with it while he was asleep or unconscious.”

“Seems likely. Between the toes is a thing junkies do to hide the tracks on their arms. It could have happened at the club or the night before.”

Mags nodded. “I’m gonna say the cocaine was injected because his nose was raw from snorting the meth. How or why all these drugs were brought together I have no idea, or why the killer chose to use them all. Maybe to cover up the patch. It’s easier to trace then meth or coke.”

Mickey wanted answers, he sure as hell got some. Too many. He would need to ask Ian a few things now that Mags had cleared up some shit, but he was sure whoever killed him wanted that patch covered up. Maybe figuring out how Ian got it would be their link to finding out who it was. 

“Long night?” Mags asked as she put together the new information into a file for him.

Mickey snorted and rubbed his forehead. “A fuck of a long night. This shit helps, but now I have more questions.”

“You mentioned Ian having a doctor?” 

Mickey nodded. 

“That might be a good place to start with trying to find out where the patch came from.”

“Thanks. That’s a good place to start. I also have another doctor on my list, I think tomorrow I’m going to speak to them both.”

He smiled, finally happy about having a good direction to go in. He felt so lost before. This case just kept getting deeper, harder. Endless. 

“Is there anything else? I’m beat.”

He shook his head and took the file. “Not right now, but thanks. And I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

“No worries. Just try and get some sleep, okay? You look like death.”

Mickey snorted out a laugh, or what might pass for one and left the morgue with a whoosh of those double doors. Ian stopped pacing the moment he approached and pulled him into a soft embrace. Just a light press of their body’s.

“Find out what you needed?” Ian asked against his hair.

Mickey nodded, eyes closed with his face tucked into Ian’s neck. “I did and we probably need to talk about it.”

“Not down here though.” Ian hit the button on the elevator. “I don’t like it down here.”

The door opened and he let Ian pull him along, too damn tired to be stubborn right now. “Yeah, I hate it too.” He leaned against Ian as they moved up. “I hate that you’re down there.”

“Don’t think too much about that, okay?” Ian squeezed him against his body. “That’s not me anymore, okay? This is me,” he kissed Mickey’s temple. “I’m here with you. That’s the me that matters right now.”

Mickey didn’t know how he could be so damned positive right now. Ian was dead and he had more hope than he did right now. He was so much stronger. So much better. The door opened and Mickey walked out and into the deserted break room. There was coffee made but Ian dug into the fridge and handed him a water bottle. Caffeine would just name him more jittery. They sat at their table, pressed close together.

“So, what did you need to talk about?”

“Mags told me some shit. Shit that we didn’t have the answers to before.” Mickey rubbed his lip, nearly desperate for a smoke. “She said you OD'd.”

Ian blinked like he didn’t expect that to be his cause of death. And right then, Mickey knew that Ian didn’t take that patch willingly. 

“From what?”

“The top thing, fentanyl patch. The dosage was too high to be combined with your meds plus the recreational shit you took.” 

Ian narrowed his eyes as he watched Mickey fidget beside him. “Mick, I don’t mix hard drugs with my meds. You already know about the weed. I told you.”

Mickey nodded, toying with his bottle of water to keep his hands busy. Ian was getting defensive. He could understand why. “Yeah, I know. And even I smoke an occasional joint when I can. Which is fine. No problems there. But she found X in your blood too.”

Ian looked away, not feeling like he was under attack, but he didn’t want Mickey’s view of him to change. “I’ve only done it once or twice. I told you I thought I saw Zeppelin, right?” Mickey nodded. “It freaked me out after, and I was a mess. Couldn’t focus or dance, so I popped one. Tried to take the edge off.”

Mickey adjusted on the bench seat, straddling it instead of having both his legs tucked under. He grabbed Ian by the waist and pulled him close to settle between his split legs. Ian’s shoulder against his chest. Mickey set his chin on Ian’s shoulder and linked their fingers, something they hadn’t gotten to yet.

“You don’t gotta do that Ian.” He rubbed over a knuckle with his thumb. “Not with me.”

“Do what?”

“Get defensive like that. You know all that shit doesn’t change anything.” He felt Ian relax a little, his shoulders not so tight. “If I didn’t balk at the married guy thing, this isn’t going to make me run.”

Ian nodded, semi relieved to hear that. “Then why did you want to talk about it?”

“Because I need to know what you took willingly to figure out what was done to you.” He closed his eyes and squeezed Ian’s side with his right hand. “You also had meth and coke in your system.” Ian tried to talk but he shook his head. “I know you didn’t take that shit. Someone forced you to do it, or it was done after.”

“Why did this happen?” Ian rested his temple against Mickey’s forehead. “I don’t understand.”

Fuck. This is what happened when you let someone in. They make you feel and experience their pain along with your own. Not to be cruel, but because you care enough to help them through it too. Ian was lost right now, unable to remember why this happened. 

“For something like this, something so elaborate as a cover up OD, it’s personal. It means someone close to you did this.”

“But who? It wasn’t my family. Ned? Zeppelin? Someone from the club?”

“Possibly. But I’m going to find out, okay?” Mickey nudge Ian’s jaw until he moved to look at him. “I promise.”

“I’m scared Mick.” 

Ian’s voice was so soft. Delicate. Child-like. Innocent. All those things. Ian had nothing to be scared of because the worst had already happened to him. Mickey was scared. This entire thing freaked him the fuck out. But the thing he was the most afraid of, was losing Ian. This Ian. The one that showed up and changed everything he knew, changed every thought he’d had in 35 years. Ian changed everything. 

Mickey took his hand away from Ian’s and brought it up to cup his face, wiping the tear away that he didn’t know about. Green eyes shimmered and Mickey could see so much life in them. So much love and hope but that flicker of fear was still there. 

“You don’t have to be afraid Ian.” Mickey slowly stroked his cheek as they rested their heads together. Sharing that sacred space. The one they’d created just for them. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“The worst has already happened Mick.” He blinked back a tear that fell despite his efforts, soaking into Mickey’s palm. “I’m afraid of what comes after. After you solve this case. When I leav—”

Mickey silenced him with a kiss. He couldn’t bare to hear those words again. Once had been a wake up call, twice was torture. Ian’s lips quivered against his own and Ian’s hand moved up his thigh. 

“Don’t say it, please.” His voice was soft after that kiss. “We can deal with that shit later, but I can’t think about that, okay?” Ian nodded, softly crying again. “It hurts to think about.”

“I know.” Ian cupped Mickey’s face and lead him onto another kiss. Deep and passionate but chaste at the same time. 

The kiss was a promise. They had to handle this one step at a time, or it spun out of his control. Control kept him safe, it kept him alive but since Ian came to him, shit had been more out of control then he’d ever known it to be. 

**

Mickey watched the tapes on a big screen television in Archie's lab, lair…whatever the hell he was calling it now. He kept his word and two hours later it was ready. And it was brutal from the moment it started. 

He was forced to watch a bunch of scantily clad twinks rub all over old fucks with stack of cash in their hands. Normally he would be all up for getting a dance or two, but not now. Not with knowing Ian had done so before. The worst part was, as he watched Ian grind on some old guy, Ian was watching him from across the room.

His face was passive, observant and Mickey tried his hardest not to judge or get mad about someone else touching Ian. It was easier said than done, however. “The fuck am I looking for Archie?” He barked and started to pace, hands on his hips, trying to be objective.

“Right there.”

Archie pointed to Ian and he could tell something had happened. Ian’s entire mood changed. He went from confident and smiling, to docile and scared. Looking past the rowdy crowd and over to the bar. Ian mentioned feeling Raines' eyes on him, but it could have been anyone.

“Someone is watching him.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Everyone is watching Archie, Christ. And why wouldn’t they?” fuck. He blurted that last part out. Archie chuckled and Ian started to grin. It was a step up from the frown, but it made his cheeks burn and embarrassment creep up his spine. 

“Can you get closer to the bar? Or find the camera over it?” 

Archie nodded and clicked away on the computer. Soon, dancing Ian went away, thank fuck because he felt gross ogling a half naked Ian like that. It just didn’t feel right. Another image popped up, this time no dancing but of the very crowded bar. 

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

Mickey nodded and moved to stand further back. The closer he got, the more the image distorted, and he couldn’t see much of anything. Further back helped him see certain faces. And there was the one he was looking for. 

Zeppelin Raines. Blue eyes, beard and pierced lip. He was hyper focused on the dance floor, at Ian and he didn’t look happy about anything. No lusty eyes or fawning over him. Raines looked pissed, angry and dangerous. 

“I knew I felt him.” 

“That mother fucker.” Mickey growled, wishing Raines was actually there so he could punch him in the face. Add another bruise to his already swelling face. 

“That your suspect?”

Mickey nodded. “Get some shots of him for me will ya? Up close and at a distance. I want him to deny being there before I slap him with these.”

“Sure thing.”

“Who let him in? 

Ian was beside him now. Just as upset and angry. Mickey glanced at Archie, he had to say it like he was speaking to him and not Ian. “Looks like he might have slipped inside. It’s so fuckin packed that it would have been easy.”

Ian nodded and Mickey wasn’t surprised when he turned away, walking behind him. What did surprise him, is Ian looping his arms around his waist and resting his head against his back. Mickey relaxed into him, holding some of Ian’s weight. Shit like this didn’t used to feel so good. The little moments now were turned into big monumental ones. Memorable ones. 

Mickey squeezed Ian’s hands reassuringly and relieved a kiss behind his ear in thank you. “Okay man, I need to see the outside camera now. The one at the back entrance for the dancers and staff to use.”

Archie nodded and clicked away. A row of different cameras came into view and he singled out the one he needed. “Time?”

“TOD was around 4:40, so show me the door from about 5 minutes to 4. I wanna see if anyone stands out.” 

“Mick.” Ian whispered into his ear, trying to be strong right now but his body was shaking, anxious, nervous. 

Mickey brought one of Ian’s hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Telling him it was okay, that he didn’t have to look. And he didn’t. Ian buried his face between his shoulder blade and breathed deeply.

“Okay, here we go.”

Mickey watched a few people go outside to smoke, to talk a little before heading back in. 5 minutes later, at exactly 4 in the morning, the door opened and Ian stumbled out of the club, a little woozy, probably from the X he took and the patch. Jeans pulled over the gold shorts, Mickey could see the bright color even with the shitty camera.

“There you are.”

Ian nodded but didn’t look. 

Mickey watched Ian lean back against the brick building and puff off a cigarette, looking up into the sky, into the camera. All alone and no one came out. Ian stubbed out the cigarette and started to walk off camera. 

“Okay, show me what I fucking need.” Mickey clenched his jaw and tried not to blink. When Ian was out of sight, the camera no longer able to guard him, the door opened, and a man stepped out. Skinny, black hoodie on, dark brown hair. 

The guy seemed to look both ways, looking for Ian. Mickey squinted at him, trying to see inside the shadow, to see a face. The guy seemed very familiar somehow. “Show me your face!” 

In a split second, the man turned his head to the left and slightly up, right the camera. His face. Mickey was looking dead at him. “Pause it.” The picture froze and Mickey literally couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Who he watched come out after Ian. 

It could have been anyone. It should have been someone else. But it wasn’t. There was no mistaking that. “Fuck.”

Archie looked back at the wide eyed detective. “You know him?”

Mickey nodded and felt Ian move, lifting his head and looking at the frozen face. The trembling was instant, and Ian’s hands shook wildly. A broken sob nearly tore Mickey’s heart from his chest, just ripped it out and stomped all over it.

“No…” Ian choked on his words, his throat closing up as tears streamed down his face. He looked over at Mickey. “I-I don’t…no, this can’t be him. It can’t—”

Mickey moved to comfort Ian, even with Archie there. He didn’t give a shit any more. But Ian kept backing away. Green eyes so wide, it was a little scary. The more he advanced, the more Ian retreated. 

“Don’t.” Mickey whispered and Ian stopped to stare at him. God, he was praying for Ian not to go. Begging him. It felt like he would never see him again. That Ian would go, that this had broken him. “Please.”

Ian shook his head. “I just need to go. I have to think.” 

It didn’t matter how bad he felt. How bad it hurt to see Ian run away from him instead of to him. It didn’t matter how angry he was….because Ian had it so much worse. He always would. Mickey put his feelings of insecurity on the back burner and let Ian do what he needed.

Mickey gave him a nod, and some resemblance of his old smile. Ian nodded back, his smile ruined by tears. And he left. Ian left him there. 

“Did you want a few of his face too?” 

Mickey turned back to Archie who seemed confused. Well, join the club. He nodded for the pictures and turned back to the tv. Anger replaced the fear of Ian leaving. It replaced all he felt until there was only red hot rage.

“Do you know him?”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, I know him.” He hissed through clenched teeth and glared at the mans face. That hate he felt towards Amara was back, only 10 times as bad. “That’s Steve, Ian’s sisters boyfriend.”


	9. The Good Doctor

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 9- The Good Doctor

It had been 4 hours since Ian had run from him. 240 minutes of scouting the entire precinct looking for him. It seemed like the harder he looked, the further away Ian was. Mickey understood the need to run, he had wanted to run the moment he saw Ian, in fact he did run. But you could only run for so long. The problems would chase you, they would run faster, harder, and eventually, they would take you down. 

Tonight had been full of answered questions and truths, too many for Ian to handle. It was too much for him to handle and he hadn’t had a personal relationship with Fiona's longtime boyfriend. From what he could gather from that one meeting, he seemed emotionally wrecked just like the entire Gallagher clan. It didn’t make sense that Steve would be behind this. 

It seemed impossible. Why would Steve want to kill Ian? What did he hope to gain with him gone? There had been no mention of bad blood between anyone in that family. Everyone loved Ian. Unless Fiona loved Ian more than Steve? Maybe Steve wasn’t okay with her choosing Ian? 

This is what he needed a partner for. Someone to talk all this shit out with, to spill the contents of their minds on the table, come together and catch the fucker responsible. Too bad his partner was a piece of shit fucking a child. Too bad Mickey had put every ounce of trust he had into one person. All those years away from Terry, trying to build himself up, trying to learn how to love and trust people again and it had all been for nothing. 

Mickey slid down the wall of the break room until his ass hit the floor. He didn’t know if it was cold, or hard. He didn’t care if his entire body was screaming for sleep, for food. Not even Amara mattered right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment, was how alone he was. How Ian was not there. That he was gone.

Ian was gone.

“Ian…” he tried to whisper it, but it came out as a quiet sob that seemed to drift away as the heater kicked on above him. 

When someone you love goes missing, when they run off in a fit of hurt and betrayal, you can do something about it. Call the cops, all up their family and friends to get some answers. Put up fliers maybe. What was he supposed to do for Ian? Go around asking if anyone hadn’t seen him, or heard from him in 2 hours when he’d been dead for nearly 10 days? 

Hopeless.

Mickey pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, slowly rocking back and forth. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t ask anyone for help, he didn’t have anyone besides Yev who cared. He was alone again. Being alone all the time was fine, if that’s what you were used to. But then someone comes along and shows you what you’ve been missing, you become happy and dependent on them…then they leave and you’re back where you started. 

Helpless. 

“Please Ian, just come back.” Mickey put his head down on his knees as the tears started falling. He was quiet, just a sniffle every now and then, and silent tears. Quiet pain was the most painful. Pain he had never felt before. No one had ever hurt him like this, not even Terry. 

“You said you’d never leave me.” Mickey whispered as his eyes closed.

Each time he thought about Ian, his heart stuttered in his chest. Each time he said his name, it happened again. It felt like a hiccup, clenching quickly before releasing. It made you catch your breath and hold your heart. 

Mickey didn’t did that. He just kept thinking of Ian and took the pain that came with each pulse. The tears stopped long ago, as did the will to move from his spot. It wasn’t until his face pressed against the cool floor that he realized he fell over. He hadn’t noticed it. Not over the irregular beats of his heart.

“It hurts.” Mickey mumbled, unable to move or maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough. The pain in his chest was too great. The dizziness didn’t help. Was this a broken heart thing? Could someone die from that? Did Ian leaving just shatter him? Mickey knew the answer to that last question. The answer was yes.

His vision started to blur, or it became too fuzzy to see anything. The vending machine started to fade in and out, the day light peeking from the blinds seemed a little too dark for the early morning. It was all just…bad. Ugly. Depressing. Dark. The entire world seemed dark and it only escalated. The slower he blinked, the less he could see.

“M' sorry Ian.” Mickey’s eyes closed for the last time and it was like lifting a building to try and open them. It was too heavy. It was dark, pitch black and cold, freezing. It was just gone, that spark, the thrum inside him. It was gone.

**  
(Ian’s POV)

Ian wandered the halls of the precinct all night. Alone. Unable to be seen or heard, unable to touch anything. Just unable without Mickey. Mickey was everything. He was the warmth that Ian used to heat his body, he was the life that made his death worth it, he was the light to all the darkness inside him. Mickey was the one who made his heart beat. 

Without him, Ian was cold, alone, worthless….without Mickey, he was dead. How long did he have before he disappeared for good? How long before they buried him and his spirit…whatever the hell you call it, what would happen to him? Would he combust into flames, just fade and fade until there was nothing left? Maybe he would do something as simple as blink and it would be all over. 

It was too much, the thought that someone close to him, that someone THAT close to him was responsible for his death. That Steve was the reason he could no longer be with his family. That his chance to ever find happiness would be gone. He would never get married, he would never have children or grow old with the man he loves. No grandchildren. Nothing but darkness, forever. 

Borrowed time.

His words and they rang true. It was only a matter of time before he was truly gone from this world and how did he spend it? Lurking the hallways, pulling his hair out trying to figure out why Steve would do this to him. He didn’t even want to see Mickey, his Mickey. Ian needed to find answers first. The truth.

But how? The only thing he was good for now was screaming without being heard. Running through walls and people, trying to make a connection to the outside world. The world full of color and happiness and his was gray and cold. There was no one to wipe his tears and no one to hold his hand or wrap their arm around him. No one to tell him he would be safe, that justice would prevail. 

No one but Mickey.

Borrowed time. 

Two words that rattled around his mind for the past hour. He’d given up trying to get people to see him, he’d given up trying to walk into someone and walk out with a new body. That t.v. ghost shit didn’t work. The truth about his death didn’t even matter anymore. But Mickey did. If he was on borrowed time, he wanted to spend every possible second with Mickey. 

Ian needed to find him. It was harder than it sounded. Too many people crowding the building, too many floors and faces, nameless faces. Mickey’s desk was empty, Mags' office was empty, bathrooms, evidence, even Archie's lab was all empty. His last hope, his only hope would be the break room. 

He stood in the middle of the crowded hallway and tried to find Mickey. Not with his eyes or by running like a lunatic, but inside of him. He tried to find that warmth, the happiness. That constant buzzing he felt when they touched. But it was gone. Like a plug had been ripped out of the wall and they were no longer connected. 

“Baby please, where are you?” Ian shut his eyes and tried to picture Mickey’s face, his smile. Those electric eyebrows that danced on his hairline. Ian searched the dark, unbeating pit of his heart and found nothing.

“Mickey!!!” 

It came out as barely a raised voice. The old man next to him could cough louder than he could yell. So, no connection. But he still had one more place to check before he really started to freak out.

The break room was dark, the light still off. No smells, not even of coffee. He could never smell or feel or taste anything unless Mickey was there. No one sitting at the circular tables. The blinds on all the windows were down, dark. 

Ian scanned the room one last time before he turned to leave…but something caught the corner of his eye. A dirty, scuffed up pair of boots. Mickey’s. He walked in slowly and nearly fell to his knees when he saw Mickey laying on his side, the hard floor under him. He wasn’t moving, he was barely breathing and when Ian tried to reach out and touch him, his arm passed through.

“No…no. Come on!” he screamed and tried to touch him again. Nothing. He had always been able to touch Mickey. No matter what. Ian dropped to his knees and tried again. “Baby, please. I’m so sorry, please!” 

Tears streamed down his face and that pit inside him felt worse, darker. Awful. Ian stopped talking, crying and the soft breathing so he could listen. It took too long to hear Mickey’s soft but distant breathing. Something was wrong. Mickey was not asleep, he was not dead. He couldn’t be.

“Fuck!!” He yelled and stood before running out into the hallway. “Help!!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. No one looked, no one noticed. “Please help me!” tears fell fast, his own breathing becoming harsher each time.

Ian moved to the nearest desk and tried to sweep the contents off. His hands passed through it all. He couldn’t even climb the desk; his feet just fell through. Nothing was working.

“He needs help!” Ian screamed and tried to punch the nearest body. Nothing. Not even when he concentrated enough to cause an aneurism. “He’s dying…” Ian croaked and fell to the floor. His body shaking as he sobbed, his heart felt just as cold as the rest of him. 

Mickey was dying and there was nothing he could do. Nothing. He himself was dead. He couldn’t help Mickey or himself. He was just…stuck, useless. Ian closed his eyes and actually prayed for the end. For his end. He could not bear the thought of a world without Mickey in it.

“Please…” Ian mumbled, feeling that cold taking over, until he felt that spark again. It was distant, different, but it was there. Not as powerful, maybe because Mickey was…dying? Hurt? Ian stood and tried walk back to Mickey, only the spark faded the closer he got. 

“Mickey?”

Ian backed away from the door and the buzz was back again. If it didn’t lead to Mickey, where did it lead? He moved slowly, walking step by step, with people ghosting through him. Ian stared at the ground, at every step away from Mickey until that buzz was louder. 

When he looked up, he didn’t understand. Mickey was lying in the break room. Hurt. In need of medical attention. Not here, standing nearly in the doorway of the precinct. Nothing made sense until Yev stepped through the door and that buzz, that spark flared to life. 

His eyes widened as he watched Yev walk through him. Fuck, okay so that was not the reaction he’d been hoping for. He was still invisible. And how the fuck was he connected to Yev right now? He got nothing from Mickey, but the Yev Radar was on full blast?

Ian turned to follow after him. He tried to grab his arm but had no luck connecting. “Yev?” he called, and the kid still didn’t react. “Jesus fuck!” he growled and chased after him again. Yev stopped at Mickey’s desk and looked around for him. Ian wanted to point and lead him there, but this shit wasn’t working. 

Ian shut him out, shut everything out and tried to focus on that feeling. On Yev. On Mickey. Mickey is what connected him to Yev. He needed to focus and see, to follow that buzz until he could connect and communicate. Everything he experienced with Mickey, from the moment he felt him chase down the hallway after him, to that time in his bed when Mickey asked him to stay, to that first touch, that first kiss. Everything made up what Ian was now. Without it, he was an empty shell of a man who hadn’t faded out yet. 

And there it was. The buzz. 

This time Ian focused on an image of Mickey’s face as he spoke. “Yev.”

Yev seemed startled, blue eyes wide. Ian could whisper to him, but not touch. “Yev.”

“Who’s there?” Yev asked as he spun around. A few people looking at him oddly but none who’d said his name. 

“Look in the break room.” Ian tried again. His head was splitting open from trying to focus so hard. Pulsing and pounding. “Your dad’s in the break room.”

“Who’s there!?” Yev yelled, eyes wide. “Break room?” 

Ian smiled and wanted to pat him on the back. “Mickey is in the break room Yev. Go get help!”.

Blue eyes widened and Ian nearly fell over as the message was finally received. Yev had heard him. He might think he’s insane, but Mickey needed him. He followed after him quickly, swaying on his feet. His vision blurred now, fuzzy as he watched Yev walk through the door way.

“Help!!”

At the scream, every officer, everyone stood at attention and trampled over each other to get into the break room. Ian barely made it to Mickey’s desk before his knees gave out and he fell onto the floor. He blinked slowly, each slower than the last and each blink was more people rushing in…blink…two EMT's with a stretcher…blink…Mickey being carted away…blink…Yev crying and running after them. 

No more blinks after that. Ian kept his eyes closed and laid at the floor by Mickey’s desk. Mickey would be okay, he had to be. He made sure someone found him. It didn’t matter that he used up all the energy he had or that he’d never felt so cold before. Or that his eyes refused to open. At least this way, he could see Mickey in his mind.

Maybe one day, after Mickey had lived that full, happy life he deserved, maybe after he watched Yev get married, have a few kids and make him Papa Mickey, maybe Mickey would marry, live happily ever after. 

Maybe after all that was said and done, maybe Mickey would die happy. And Ian would be able to see him again. He’d be able to say something corny like 'welcome home' or ‘I’ve been waiting'. Something to show Mickey how long he waited for him. How much he loves him…loved. Would always love. 

That’s the last thing Ian remembers before the cold takes over. That he was, is and will always be in love with Mickey Milkovich.

**

Mickey shifted slowly as he tried to figure out why every inch of his body hurt. From the tip of his toes, to the roots of his hair, his body ached something awful. His chest and his head mostly. Everything else was just uncomfortable. 

Blinking seemed too difficult. Each time his eyes would open, a cascading amount of pain rained down on him, forcing them closed. He tried using a few other things to help figure out where he fuck he was and what happened.

A slow, steady and annoying beeping sound seemed to echo off the walls of his head and bounce back into his brain twice as hard. Beeping probably wasn’t good. Beeping meant the hospital and that meant he fucked up somehow. 

Mickey didn’t remember getting hurt. He hadn’t been chasing perps or running for his life. He’d been at work…or he thought he had. Mags flashed into his mind, them talking. Her going through yet another file. 

The more he thought on it, the faster his heart beat and the more it hurt. Mickey hissed. “Fuck.” His voice was a low croaking sound. Frog-like and he never wanted to hear it again.

“Dad?”

That voice didn’t sound too bad. It was Yev. But something was wrong. His voice sounded weak, tired, like he’d been crying. Maybe he did get hurt at work? 

“Yev?” Mickey called out into the darkness of his mind. It didn’t echo this time and it didn’t hurt. 

“Get the doctor!”

Mickey winced at the volume of his voice. Pain. Doctor. Hospital. He hated hospitals and doctors. He tried to open his eyes again and that bright, blinding pain was there, but he was used to pain. He powered through it and blinked rapidly until he could see the dim lights, then the ceiling.

“Dad, can you hear me?”

Mickey tried to nod but his head didn’t move. It felt so fucking heavy. “M' here.” He mumbled and looked around as the fuzz around his eyes began to clear. “Where’s here?”

Yev didn’t answer and Mickey could nearly make out the blonde of his hair before a bright light shined right into his eyes. He shut them quick and yelled. “The fuck! That shit is bright!”

“Mister Milkovich, can you hear me?”

Mickey didn’t know that voice but only someone with authority would call him Mister. “Yes. And I could have seen you too but you fuckin blinded me!” he barked and went for it again, this time the light was gone but he was seeing spots. “Who are you?”

“My name is Doctor Blake. You’re at Mercy Hospital.”

The spots cleared quickly, and he was able to see Yev looking at him. Blue eyes watery but smiling. He reached out and Yev squeezed his hand. “What happened bud?”

“Sir—”

Mickey cut him off with a glare. “I was askin my son.” He turned back to Yev. “What happened?”

“I’m not really sure. Uh, you were at work all night and I came by to talk to you but couldn’t find you anywhere.” Yev wiped a tear that fell onto his cheek. “I found you in the break room and you were unconscious.”

He didn’t know why…for what felt like hours he tried to remember how he would come to be unconscious. And then it hit him, it all came rushing back.  


The tape. Steve. Ian freaking out. Ian leaving, running. Leaving him. Searching, crying, feeling cold. Then pain, so much chest pain. His heart hurt, no Ian. No Ian. No Ian. The beeping next to his bed started to beep faster and the pain was constant. He released Yev's hand and held it against his chest, over his heart. “Fuck.”

“You need to calm down Mister Milkovich.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, trying to calm the hell down. But Ian was gone. Why would he go? Where? Was he back? Mickey felt his heart skip a beat again. Just as it had at the precinct.

“What happened?” this time he addressed the doctor.

“The term is takotsubo cardiomyopathy, a heart attack Mister Milkovich.”

A heart attack? That’s what he’s been feeling that whole time? A damn heart attack? Did that mean all he felt wasn’t because Ian left? He was as healthy as a horse. He shouldn’t be having heart attacks.

“My last physical didn’t show any signs of heart problems.”

Doctor Blake shook his head. “This isn’t a heart attack from a blocked artery. It’s from stress massive amounts of stress and you had a heart attack.”

Stress. Yes, he’d been having a lot of that recently. Too much. This case, Ian being ‘alive', their connection, Yev and Amara, Ian leaving. All stress and his body freaked out on him. “Am I okay?”

“You will be. We are going to put you on medication to repair your heart, make sure to give you something so you have no clots to worry about. But the main thing you need, is rest.”

Mickey scuffed. “I rest.”

Doctor Blake shook his head. “When was the last time you slept?”

Mickey had to think about it and that was a bad sign. “At least 36 hours ago. Which for me, isn’t that long because I’ve gone longer.”

“And that’s your main reason. Now, I understand you work for Chicago PD?”

Mickey nodded. 

“And your son mentioned some stress induced issues at home?” 

That surprised him. Both Yev admitting it was added stress and a problem. He nodded again, glancing at Yev who seemed to be silently crying still. “This has just been a bad week really. It’s not always like this.”

“I find that hard to believe. Now we set you up with the first round of those meds I mentioned. I have no doubt that you’ll make a full recovery in about 5 to 10 days and you’ll be released after 3, sent home until you are cleared for duty.”

Mickey sat up, which was a bad decision. Pain spidered from his heart, outwards until that skipped heart beat returned. He took a deep breath and got settled back onto the pillows. “No, that’s not gonna work for me. See, I’m in the middle of a murder case and I need to go.”

“Dad please.”

“No Yev, I have shit to do and I don’t have to stay here.” He was being stubborn, and he knew it. They all did but he had to be. It was the only way he was going to survive this. Being laid up in bed wouldn’t work. “Good, now get my papers rollin so I can go.”

“I must tell you this is a bad idea sir. You don’t know of the complications if you push yourself. You need less stress, not to dive back into it. I don’t want to alarm you, but some have died from this.”

Yev squeezed his hand. “Doc, I nearly die every day, multiple times a day. I have more scars than I can count. I will be careful, and I’ll take it easy and leave the heavy duty shit to…someone else.” He nearly said Amara and Yev knew it. “But I have people to talk to, shit to work out and I won’t be kept in this damn bed.”

Doctor Blake shook his head and stood. “Fine. But it’s AMA and I will be calling your captain to let him know. Make sure you take those meds when it says and if you don’t take care of yourself, I’m sure you’ll be back in a day or so.”

Mickey was impressed. The doctor told him off and left in a huff. Fuller didn’t scare him. Either did meds. He would take it easy, see if he could get a temporary partner until he could ask Fuller for a new one. But his first priority was to find Ian.

“Dad, maybe you should stay.”

“No, I can’t. I have a murder case in front of me.” 

“But what if you have another one? He just said it could kill you.”

He knew Yev was freaked. He was freaked. A heart attack, albeit a different kind, was some heavy duty shit. No messin around. But he would not just sit here watching RomCom's and eat Jell-O. He wasn’t programed to do that. 

Now that he was out of danger for the moment, he realized this was the first time he talked to Yev after that fight. Only hours ago, a day maybe and yet it felt so old, so big. He was still mad, more than mad. 

“I thought I told you to go to your moms.” 

He could hear the tears start up again. That was his one big weakness; Yev. Yev in pain, or sad, too happy or lonely. Anything really. It hurt his heart and the monitor stated to beep. He was getting too worked up again. 

“I just came by to talk you.”

Mickey nodded as he breathed slowly. “I’m not…” beep beep. “I’m not ready for that.”

“I know. Maybe later…” he sniffed. “You really scared me dad.”

Mickey fought back his own tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Finding you like that, you were barely breathing, and I couldn’t get you to wake up.” Yev sniffled louder, rubbing his face. 

Mickey thought he’d meant with Amara. That he’d scared him. He didn’t think Yev meant now, because of all this shit. “Yeah, I’m not really sure what happened with all this. I guess I just overworked myself when I shouldn’t have.”

Massive understatement. 

They were silent because any further discussion would trickle into Amara territory and he didn’t want to go there. Not now, maybe not even later on or after this case. Maybe not ever. 

“Your mom here?”

Yev nodded. “Waiting room. They said family only.”

Svet was his family. “I need to get back to work. You should probably go back home with her.” It hurt to send him away. It went against everything he was as a parent. But he just wasn’t ready for that talk. 

“Dad, please.”

“No. I can’t talk about that shit right now unless we want this to happen.” He motioned to the fast beeping of his heart. He took a deep breath and waited for it to even out again. “You need to go, and I need to go, and we can always talk about it later.”

The door opened and Svetlana walked in with a bundle of bad smelling flowers and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Mickey grinned and when she leaned forward to hug him, he kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“You better, no?”

It hurt to laugh but he did anyway. “Yeah, better. Getting out in a few.”

“Bullshit. You too sick. Dying probably.”

Mickey snorted. “Hell no. Can’t get rid of me that easily.” He looked to Yev, then back to her. “He tell you?”

Svetlana gave Yevgeny mean look. “He did. We will talk when you are better, yes?”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, sure. Take him home with you? I need a little bit.” Yev gave him that kicked puppy dog look. 

“Yes. We go now. Call me, yes?”

Mickey nodded and hugged her goodbye. She left them with an awkward silence. “Yev…” he sighed, feeling so damn tired. “Just know, that no matter what, I love you. Okay? That shit ain’t ever gonna change.”

Yev nodded. “I love you too dad.”

“But you hurt me kid.” He swallowed past that lump in his throat. “You both did. And I can’t just get past it. But I can’t deal with it now.” Beep Beep Beep. “Fuck.” He groaned as his chest clenched painfully. 

Yev stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in and Mickey didn’t hesitate to hug him when he was in reach. He hugged him tight, like he used to when he was little. Soft blonde hair tickling his nose and Yev relying on him for everything. 

“I love you dad.” Yev mumbled into his neck, trying not to hurt him as he squeezed.

“Love you too buddy. Don’t worry, okay? I’m fine.” 

Yev pulled away and slowly walked out before that tear could fall onto his cheek. Mickey wiped it away and laid back. It was quiet. Just the sound of his heart beating. At least it was beating. For now. Maybe it was temporary. 

“Ian?” Mickey called out silently. It was a long shot, but worth a chance. The sun setting outside the window let him know he’d been laid up here for over 6 hours. That made it 10 hours without seeing or hearing Ian. “Ian?”

His chest ached when only silence greeted him and that awful, slightly louder beeping was getting on his fucking nerves. He needed to find Ian. He had to. Mickey dove deep inside himself to try and find that feeling again. The one they shared that first time in his bed; wholeness. In that moment, he felt whole. Happy. 

One more time. If it didn’t work…well, he didn’t know what he would do. Quit? He probably couldn’t even if he wanted to. 

“Ian, if you can hear me, please… just please come back.” Mickey sniffled, tears coming to his eyes. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to.” He blinked until they fell down his cheeks and that beeping got loud again. “You promised you’d never leave me.”

Beep Beep Beep

Mickey shut his eyes and cried. This was worse than their talk of borrowed time. If Ian had no choice in leaving, it would hurt but he would understand that he had no choice. But this? This was the result of Ian leaving of his own free will. He cried for everything. For the life Ian lost, to the Ian that came to him as a ghost, he cried for the moments that would never happen again, for that feeling.

Was Ian meant to be his soul mate? Even in death? Because of if his death, they had been brought together. They’d taken the tragedy and made something magical, beautiful. They’d occupied the same earth, the same country, the same state and city, right down to a few blocks from each other, they’d shared Yev, Carl too. So close together and destined to meet only in death. 

Ian’s heart beat because of him. He made it beat as if he were alive again. He got to talk and smile, make memories. He’d been able to touch him, holding hands and sharing space. They’d kissed like their lives depended on it. Ian came alive when he touched him. 

Beep Beep Beep

“You said it was real.” 

Mickey finally closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face and his hand was palm up on the bed, where Ian’s hand should have been. A slight chill brushed over his body, a familiar chill. Then cold fingers linked with his own, they wiped away his tears. 

Ian.

“Oh Mick,” Ian whispered. 

Mickey knew he was a dream. It had to be because Ian was gone. He indulged anyway. Turning his head, he kissed Ian’s palm and squeezed his hand. Never wanting to let go. If this was a dream, he wanted to stay. If this was death, he still wanted to stay.

“It was supposed to be real.” Mickey mumbled and started to drift off…or fade away. He didn’t care which. 

His hand was lifted and put against what he assumed was Ian’s chest. Cold and hard under his palm. Right above his heart. For a while, nothing happened. Until it did. Slowly, Ian’s heart started to beat. 

“It was always real Mickey.”

Mickey started to cry again. Silent tears that rolled down his face. Very slowly, he opened his eyes to see Ian standing beside his bed. Red hair, green, red rimmed puff eyes, tears on his cheeks but a smile on his face and Mickey had never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

“Ian.” It came out a choked sob and he squeezed his hand. “You promised.”

Ian nodded and let himself cry as well. “I know baby and I’m so sorry.”

Beep Beep Beep

He was falling asleep again or dying. He didn’t care. Ian was here. Maybe briefly, but he was here, and he was beautiful and perfect. Nothing else mattered right now. Not Amara or Steve or Raines. Life and death. None of it. The only thing Mickey focused on was Ian’s hand in his own and the sweet words flowing into his ears.

“I love you Mick.”

**

Waking up the second time was hardly better than the first. He was still sore all over, but at least the pain was manageable, and he didn’t have a doctor with a death ray pointed into his eyes. This time, he opened them and looked into the sleeping face of what he could swear was an angel. Ian’s hand was still linked with his, face to face. Mickey had shuffled over in the small bed to make room for him and didn’t take no for an answer. 

Ian hadn’t been the dream angel he thought he was. He was real. Or real adjacent. The closest you could get to real when you’re dead. But he was here, he’d shown up when Mickey all but prayed for him. Seeing Ian had put his mind and body at rest, at least for a little while. 

He tried not to make a sound as he stared. Green eyes trapped behind pale lids with bright red lashes that matched his hair, which was all over the place. Like he’d run his hands through it too many times. The soft skin around his eyes was still a little puffy from crying, but he was beautiful.

Mickey slowly shifted the hand under his pillow forward so his fingers could brush through Ian’s hair. Still baby soft. Ian let out a soft sigh and bumped his head against his fingers, moving closer even in his sleep. Ian was here, back. Asleep beside him, yet that fear of never seeing him again settled deep within his heart. Maybe it would always be there now.

Unable to stand the distance apart, even when it was barely 2 inches, Mickey moved closer, taking each lick of pain as a good sign, that he was still alive. His forehead pressed against Ian’s and the breath he’d been holding slowly drifted out, ruffling his hair and making his eyes stir. 

“Baby?” Ian called out, groggy, laced with sleep.

Mickey smiled at the term. Something so new, shouldn’t feel so good when he heard it. It sounded better than Mick or Mickey. “Hey.” His voice was rougher than Ian’s, laced with sleep and left over pain meds.

Ian unlinked their hands and put his on Mickey’s tired face. He had dark bags under his eyes, he looked a little pale and worn the fuck out. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Mickey chuckled and winced as the action moved over his body. “You don’t look much better, just in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

They hadn’t talked about anything yet. Both had been so stressed, so exhausted that the only thing they could do was hold each other until the worst of it had passed. But now, there would be no more excuses. Shit would be laid out on the table, unable to put up any walls to keep their feelings in. It was now or never.

“You left.” Mickey blinked away their eye contact, unable to hold it without making his chest hurt.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Ian caressed his face, mapping out the lines of his cheekbone and his jaw. “I guess it was just too much. I guess dead people can still suffer from shock.”

Mickey nodded. “I looked for you. Spent hours just…searching.” 

“I wasn’t there.” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t really know where I was. Kinda like the day I first saw you.”

Mickey swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried not to get so damn emotional. This wasn’t even the hardest part of the conversation. 

“The next thing I remember, was trying to find you.”

“I was there. The whole time.” Mickey sighed, rubbing his thumb against Ian’s neck. “It’s not like I can ask people if they’ve seen you around or print out a picture and plaster it all over Chicago.”

Ian gave a little smile.

“But when you left, that thing left.” Ian’s silent question was all over his face. “Fuck. Uh, that feeling. That tingling buzzing feeling when we touch. It was gone. I couldn’t feel it anyone, I couldn’t find you.”

When Ian’s hand moved up to his face, coming back with damp fingers, he realized he was crying again. He’d cried more in 12 hours than he did in his entire life. But that lost connection really freaked him out, it still did. 

“I couldn’t feel it either.” Ian whispered as he moved closer so his lips barely brushed Mickey’s. He wasn’t after a kiss, just the closeness.

“I felt cold without it. Freezing and my heart started to hurt.” Just like right now and he winced as the beeping got a little louder. “It felt like I was dying Ian. I literally felt like I was about to fuckin die because I couldn’t feel you anymore.”

Ian pressed closer to him until their legs intertwined. “When I found you, it didn’t matter how close I got, that connection wasn’t there anymore.” Ian had to take a deep breath to hold back his own tears. “I tried to touch you and I couldn’t.” His voice wavered and the tears refused to stay in.

“Couldn’t?” Mickey asked and wiped it away.

“W-when I touched you, my hand went through you. It didn’t make any connection.” The tears came faster, and he was sniffling so hard it was hard to continue. “I could feel you dying Mick, or fucking fading but I couldn’t do anything!”

Ian’s hand went through him? Like it had for Amara? Was he really that close to being dead or had their connection been too weak to keep Ian grounded? Whatever it was, it freaked Ian right out. It freaked him out. They’d been looking for each other and found nothing but darkness.

“Why didn’t I die then?” Mickey asked quietly, rubbing his thumb over Ian’s jaw.

“After I freaked out, screaming and trying to hit shit and step into people, acting like a fucking maniac, I felt it again. That connection. But it was different. It didn’t feel the same as it did before.”

“Why not?” 

Mickey was afraid of the answer when he asked. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want what they had to change and make it harder for them. Shit was already hard enough. 

“Because the connection wasn’t to you at that moment Mick. I walked back to you and the connection got weaker. But I backed up, left the room and as I tried to go outside, Yev came in.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes.

“Mick, it wouldn’t let me connect with you. But it made a connection to Yev. I couldn’t touch him, my hand passed right through and he didn’t hear me at first, but I could whispered to him.”

The fear was back again. Ian’s reaction to Steve had been so traumatic that it severed that bond, however temporary, it still freaked them out. But why would be connect to Yev? Did Ian want Yev like that now? Instead of him? 

“Mick, I don’t know how, but I helped him find you. It seemed like it took ages and I’m pretty sure trying so hard gave me a stroke, but it worked!” Ian smiled, it was happy but tired. “Maybe it’s because he’s the closest to you, but it worked.”

Mickey smiled too. It was fucking weird, but it made a little sense. He was able to connect with Yev because it was his son. His blood. Ian worked hard to connect, to save him. Even put himself, his spirit, soul...at risk for him. To make sure help came.

“You saved me.” Mickey moved up and kissed his forehead. “You’re an asshole, but you saved me.”

Ian snorted. “I am an asshole and you have no idea how fucking sorry I am. This whole thing, losing you, at least for a while…” he shivered at the dark feeling it gave him. “I never want that to happen again.”

“It could have been handled better,” Ian rolled his eyes. “but it is what it is.” Mickey moved his hand, so it slid down Ian’s chest, then under his shirt to feel warm skin instead of cold. He felt Ian shiver as it pressed against his chest. “You’re warm.”

Ian nodded and mimicked Mickey, letting his hand move under the hospital gown to rest on Mickey’s heart. “I’m cold without you. Without that connection. Whatever the fuck that means or how or why, I don’t know. But it seemed like the second you faded, I was too.”

“I felt that. The longer you were gone, the more that shit hurt. Like actual pain but I guess it was stress.” Mickey closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth creeping into his palm. It took a moment, maybe an hour, but he could feel Ian’s heart again. It matched his own, even slipping a beat or two from the palpitations.

“It only beats with you Mick.” Ian never felt more relieved just to feel that pulse in his heart. “Without it, without you, I’m just dead.”

Mickey flinched at that word. They had both been closer to death or nonexistence than they were comfortable with. “What does that mean though?” he wasn’t being rude or mean. He really needed to know. “Does that mean if I die, you’re just gone? Or if you’re not here anymore, I die?”

“I don’t know.” Ian trembled, holding back more tears. “I fuckin hope not.”

Their hands never moved, they just lay steady on each other’s hearts. Feeling it pound and skip a beat every 2 dozen or so beats. Exactly the same. That connection was back. Mended. 

“I wish we had a fuckin “how to Ghost” for Dummies.” Even Ian cracked a smile.

“Are you really not going to stay until you feel better?”

Mickey shook his head. “I was mainly worried about finding you, which I guess you found me, so I wasn’t in a hurry before. But I need to go talk to Steve.”

Ian nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

Mickey wanted to tell him no. But after what they just went through, there was no way he was ever letting Ian out of if his sight again. If that meant buying Ian some ghosty headphone to ear plugs so he didn't hear the bad shit, fine, but he was not leaving.

“Yes, you are, and we are going to get to the bottom of it.” Mickey leaned in close to Ian’s chest, he easily pulled the collar of his shirt down with his free hand and kissed the center of his chest. Ian’s hand slid into his hair and held him there. “M' not letting you out of my damn sight again.” He placed another kiss, then another until he removed his hand from Ian’s chest and kissed over his heart. 

“I was just about to say that.” Ian chuckled and kissed every available inch of skin on his face. His hand moved from Mickey’s heart, and the now bad angle and slid to his bare back, smoothing up and down the soft, warm skin. “You need someone to take care of you.”

Mickey rested his head against his chest, feeling very sleepy again. “Don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Ian chuckled. “Good thing I didn’t fucking ask for your permission Mick.”

Okay, maybe having someone take care of him wouldn’t be so bad. Not if it meant this, his head on Ian’s chest, Ian’s hand smoothing up and down his back with Ian slightly humming something he couldn’t place. If that’s what taking care of someone meant, he might be able to get used to it.


	10. Help Me

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 10- Help Me

It had taken nearly 2 hours to get out of that hospital, even with all the damn paperwork halfway done. Mickey had been forced to sign paper after paper, saying he knew the risks of leaving against medical advice and that if anything happened, the hospital was not responsible for any damages, so he couldn’t sue anyone. Not like he wanted to, that was the furthest thing down on his to-do list, right between getting a prostate exam and having his teeth cleaned; not a high priority.

The only thing that made it bearable, was having Ian beside him the entire time. He was practically glued to his side, touching at all times. They were both a little afraid to break apart for longer than it took to go to the bathroom, afraid that bond would break again. 

Nearly 2 hours later and he still had to wait to go to the Gallagher house. It was nearing midnight and just the wheelchair ride from his bed, to the front door to wait for a cab, felt like he’d run 10 miles. Ian had to help him into the damn thing like he was a senior citizen. 

Under strict orders from nurse Ian, Mickey had agreed to head home for the rest of the night and tackle Fiona and Steve in the morning. The ride home was rather short, with Ian’s hand in his own and the meds working hard to keep the pain to a dull ache, it could have been worse.

“Out ya go!” Ian placed a hand on his back to steady him as he crawled out.

Mickey tossed a 50 at the driver and swatted Ian’s hand away. “Don’t need your help.”

“Huh?” the driver looked at him.

Mickey rolled his eyes and took the long walk up to his apartment and Ian’s hand was at the small of his back and there was no reason to fight it. This movin around shit and trying to function was harder than he anticipated but he’d be damned if he was going back to that hospital.

“Maybe I should just carry you.” Ian hovered like a mom with a wobbly toddler. Both trying to guard him from getting hurt, while trying not to laugh at the same time.

At that comment, Mickey lightly elbowed Ian in the chest, smiling as the fucker laughed. “And how would that look huh? See my heavy ass hovering in the air like a damn demon or some shit. I’d get strapped down and probed for the rest of my life.”

The door opened and Mickey walked them in before locking the door, twice. Maybe it was stupid to think he could shut all the bad shit out in the hallway, all the death, lies, secrets and betrayal. Just lock him and Ian inside, safe and together. And he did, if only for the night.

“Ya know, I could get down with that.” Ian grinned when Mickey glared at him. “The strapping down and probing thing I mean.”

Mickey snorted and sat on the edge of the couch to kick off his boots and shrug off his jacket without falling. “Yeah, I bet you could. Perv.” He smiled when Ian kicked off his shoes, his ghosty shoes, and walked up to stand in front of him. “You feel okay?”

Ian nodded and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck, playing with the back of his hair. “I’m fine, worried about you.”

“Told you I was fine.” Mickey let his head fall forward to rest against Ian’s chest, lying his ass off about being fine. He chose to focus on other things, Ian things. Like wrapping his arms around Ian’s middle, hands clasped on the small of his back. “I’ll be back to normal in the morning.”

“Like hell you will.” Ian huffed but didn’t push, it wouldn’t do anyone any good right now. “You wanna head to bed?”

Mickey moved back to look up at him, suddenly very aware how far down he was… Aware enough to feel a wave of heat blasting up his back. Oh sure, his body picked NOW of all times to flare up. Now that he knew shit was okay, that he wasn’t going to die and Ian didn’t leave, his body was back on the ‘let’s touch Ian’ bandwagon. 

“Mick?”

Mickey snapped out of all the sexual shit he had playing in his mind, long enough to answer. “What?” it came out as a weak question, dripping with guilt. 

Ian smiled. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed.”

Bed. Ian. Strapping down and probing.

Fuck, this wouldn’t end well. This could NOT happen. His body would probably stroke out if they did anything, kissing included. When his heart was at 100%, it was barely able to withstand that sexual heat created between them. But now? Barely at a forth of it’s strength…probably death. 

“Mick!”

“What?!” he barked, he’d spaced out again.

Ian chuckled. “What do you keep spacing out over? I say something and you get this vacant look.”

Mickey dropped his head to Ian’s chest again to avoid Ian seeing his blush. Of course, from this angle he could suggestively eye the band of Ian’s jeans a few inches down. “Fuck, it’s nothin. Just thinkin too hard.”

Ian moved his hands to Mickey’s shoulders and slowly started to massage the tense muscles. “Don’t think so hard then. I just need to get your ass in bed and…”

Mickey groaned and pushed his face further into Ian’s body. Stupid body functions, stupid Ian for being so innocent when he said shit like that. “Fuck.”

Ian caught on quick and chuckled, shaking his head and kept working Mickey’s shoulders. “Now? Seriously Mick?” 

“Shut up!” It was muffled by Ian’s body.

“Here I am, trying to be all accommodating, playing nurse and shit and your mind is swimming in the gutter.” 

“It is not, fuck. I just need to sleep. Pass the fuck out before my heart stops working.” He tried to move away but Ian didn’t let him. “You gonna tease me some more?” he regretted it the moment he said it and Ian’s stupid, adorable smile.

“Stop being so damn stubborn and tell me what you want.” Ian shook his head the second Mickey went to argue. “Seriously baby, it can be anything. Anything to help you relax and get some sleep. The Strapping down and probing thing will have to wait.”

Ian winked and Mickey huffed out a laugh. At least they were on the same page. They wanted something to happen, not necessarily sexual but just being able to share the closeness would be enough. But what did he really want to make that happen?

Mickey really only wanted one thing. The only thing that was 100% guaranteed to help him relax. He leaned back and tugged at Ian’s, his shirt. “Take this off.”

Ian smiled shyly and reached behind to grab the middle of his shirt and pulled it off in one easy motion. Mickey suddenly had an eye full of Ian’s upper body. They hadn’t made it that far yet, but he wanted to. Ian was fucking gorgeous. All that pale, soft, freckled skin. Lean muscles, defined pecs, abs for days and his hips…holy fuck his hips. 

“Your turn.” Ian reached down to grab the hem and Mickey slowly lifted his arms, helping him slide it off.

“You’re beautiful.” Mickey whispered and knew Ian could hear him. He pressed his head back against his chest, slowly rubbing over his skin with the tip of his nose. Warm skin. He knew they couldn’t do a lot. Hell, Ian breathing the wrong way would probably send him into cardiac arrest, but he needed to touch him.

“Think so?” Ian was humoring him, too busy working his shoulders again to dig deeper into Mickey’s reasoning.

Mickey nodded and let his lips rub across his skin. Ian sighed heavily and leaned against him. He let one hand slide up to rest over Ian’s heart, feeling the slightly faster beat under it. It was enough to calm his own heart, relaxing each time it pulsed against his hand.

“You feel it?” 

“Best feeling in the world right now.” He kept his hand there but placed a kiss just below it, then another, then another until he slowly worked his way back to the center of Ian’s body. “I think I need to keep my hand there all the time, just to be sure.” 

“I’m not gonna say no.” Ian couldn’t stop his smile as he looked down. “I missed this, us. Touching.”

Mickey knew it was a bad idea, but he risked looking up and those blazing green eyes were on him. A smile on Ian’s face. There was such want in that look. So much need. Not just sexual, but the need to touch and be touched, to feel alive…sort of. That was his only excuse for rolling his tongue up the center of Ian’s body.

“Mick…” he gasped, unable to look away.

His heart skipped a beat, a small amount of pain following but he kept it hidden as he placed kiss after kiss over Ian’s body. Mickey didn’t want to stop. He moved over every inch of skin he could, kissing up his ribs, down over each bump of his abs, then way lower to run his tongue down the V of Ian’s hips.

“Fuck, that feels good.”

Ian already sounded wrecked. His voice was rough, laced with so much emotion. “I should probably stop.” Mickey insisted but kept at it, quickly swirling his tongue around Ian’s belly button. The responding moan was enough to pull a groan from him. “Yeah, we need to stop.”

Ian nodded and leaned down to bump his nose against Mickey’s. “We really, really do.” 

Mickey let Ian help him stand and they shared a heated look as they moved down the hall and into the bedroom. The bed was a mess, sheets messy and crumpled. Clothes from their last…encounter, spread on the floor. Sticky boxers and everything. It did NOT help that feeling die down between them.

When their eyes met, they flashed back to being tangled up together. Lips hungrily working against each other’s, hips slotted together as they moved, chasing that high that only sex could give you. The heat that glued them together as they rocked their hips towards that out of reach orgasm…

“Jesus Christ.” Mickey chuckled and broke away from that look. His body was flushed with heat and they were already shirtless which didn’t help. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“What won’t?” 

Mickey turned his head and pressed his lips against Ian’s bare arm. A light kiss that made Ian’s soft skin break out in goosebumps. “I don’t want to stop.” He kissed again, slowly running his tongue against his skin. “I really don’t.”

Ian put a finger under his chin and lifted his face up, running his thumb along his jaw. “I don’t want to either, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Mickey thought about Ian hurting him in the best of ways, pinning him to the bed and thrusting inside him, stretching him wide. His heart beat a little faster, but he ignored the pain. “I can take it.”

Ian backed him up until Mickey sat on the edge of the bed. He put both hands on the bed, on either side of his body. “No Mick. You need to shower and sleep. Give yourself a break.”

Ian was trying so hard to make him comfortable, trying to take it easy on him. But Mickey didn’t want that. He wanted the opposite. He pressed forward and kissed Ian’s lips, so soft you could barely call it a kiss. “Ian, I almost fuckin died.” Ian flinched but that was his entire point. “I don’t want to take shit slow anymore. I want to fuckin touch you.” He dipped his head down and kissed over Ian’s nipple, making him gasp. “Don’t you want to?”

Ian nodded and moved back to stand. One of his hands moved into Mickey’s hair and pulled him close. “I want it so fuckin bad baby.” 

Mickey let Ian push his mouth against him and wasted no time kissing over his body. His hands gripped Ian’s sides, unable to keep still. “Don’t tell me no.” He kissed lower, pain shot into his chest, but the pleasure Ian gave him was so much greater. “We don’t know how much time you have…”

“Don’t Mick—”

“No.” Mickey pushed back to look at him. Ian’s eyes were wide and talking about time was a sensitive subject for them both. “We have no idea Ian and I don’t want to waste it. I want you.” His fingers moved down, tracing the v of his hips until they slipped under Ian’s jeans, making his intention very clear.

“Fuck.” Ian groaned and clenched his jaw so hard it cracked. “Fine.” He breathed after Mickey wiggled his fingers. “But we do it at my speed. I don’t want to go too far and hurt you.”

Mickey nodded and popped the button on Ian’s jeans. “Your speed.” He agreed and pulled so the zipper parted, and he could see Ian’s briefs. “Take em off.”

Ian gave a dark chuckle and the need to give in was strong, but he shook his head and backed up. “My speed.”

Mickey grinned, unable to help himself. He wanted Ian to let go, to stop thinking about the why nots. Just to feel it, feel what they had. He needed Ian to relax. So, he would help him. Mickey didn’t reach for Ian, he wanted Ian to come to him. 

“Your speed.” He smirked and leaned back against the bed, braced on his elbows with his naked chest on full display. Ian’s eyes widened, just like he wanted them to. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

“Mick.” Ian clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged and lifted his hips as he moved further back on the bed. Ian’s eyes drifted to his groin, and he was hard and pressed against his jeans and Ian could see it. “Ain’t doin shit. Just layin here.” 

“Like fuck you are.” Ian let his hands run up the length of Mickey’s thighs, his tight grip had Mickey biting his lip. “I know what you’re doing.”

The more Ian moved, the more his unbuttoned jeans slipped down, and Mickey could see how hard he was. It made his heart pound fast, but he chose to ignore the stutter. “What am I doin?”

Ian’s head dipped down, and he rubbed his lips against his skin, just as Mickey had done to him. Mickey gasped and his hips tried to lift, desperate for any friction. “You’re trying to get me to hurry the hell up.”

Mickey chuckled but it died on his lips the moment Ian’s tongue licked against his chest. “Fuck…” his head dropped back, and his eyes closed. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, guess I’ll have to tease it out of you.” Ian started kissing everywhere, licking around Mickey’s nipples, even scraping his teeth across his skin. “I bet you’ll tell me before I ask again.” 

There was no more talking as Ian moved over his body. The sinful way he used his mouth, not just his lips but his tongue and using his teeth to bring that edge of almost pain but it always felt incredible. Mickey groaned when Ian moved down his stomach, licking down the center. Green eyes looked up at him and Ian’s hands moved to his jeans. He popped the button and pulled both sides apart until his hips jerked.

“Fuck Ian.” He moaned and felt his elbows shake to hold his weight. Ian was further down, sucking a deep red mark unto his left hip. The shot of pain to his chest was worth it. He never wanted this to end. “I fuckin need it.”

Ian slipped his fingertips into the back of Mickey’s jeans and pulled slightly so Mickey understood what he was about to do. “Tell me what you need baby.”

His jeans slowly slipped down his hips and he lifted his ass to help. Ian kept sucking at his hips as he tossed the jeans to the side. His entire body was on fire from Ian touching him. He was already panting, sweating, slightly rocking his hips. “Need you.”

Ian growled against his skin and licked lower, following the dark happy trail until he nosed at Mickey’s boxers. “How?”

“Fuck, you know how!” he growled back and bucked his hips. The whimper that came out was due to his dick poking Ian’s throat. “God…”

“Easy baby,” Ian grinned and rubbed his chin against him. “Don’t blow it yet.”

Mickey scuffed but Ian was right on the mark. He felt like he could come any second. “Your speed remember. If I’m this close, it’s because you brought me here.”

Ian quirked his eyebrow. “Hmmm, you’re right. I better stop.” He moved back and Mickey lost it.

“No, please Ian.” He sat up and grabbed at him, trying to pull him closer and each shift of Ian’s body made his jeans slip down. “Just keep going?”

Ian moved back between his legs and grabbed him behind each knee and spread him open. Mickey gasped, flushed, because he had not been expecting that. It made his mind immediately go to what Fiona let slip, Ian was a top. It showed in the best ways. But Ian didn’t know if he was a bottom or not. It just hadn’t come up yet. 

“Kiss me.” Ian mumbled as he bent down, spreading Mickey’s legs wider.

Mickey gasped as Ian took the kiss before he could reply. Ian’s speed was his new favorite speed. Ian was practically pressed against his ass and he was happy to be there. So happy, that he let out a deep groan that Ian swallowed down.

“Again.” Mickey mumbled when Ian pulled back, he gripped the back of his neck and fell into the kiss, trying to lean back enough to bring Ian with him but those long legs stood sturdy on the floor. Immovable. “More.”

Ian chuckled and Mickey let him move back. He already felt so damn needy, he didn’t want to add to it. But fucking hell, Ian made it so damn hard not to beg for it. The fucker didn’t even do anything to incite that response, he was just himself.

But Ian kept moving back this time, further away. Mickey rose up, propped up by his hands against the bed and watched him inch closer to the bathroom. “The fuck?”

Ian grinned and let his jeans fall to the floor in a puddle and shivered at Mickey’s groan. He knew Mickey could see him, he could see all of him, hard and pressed against the tight boxers. 

“I said at my speed…right?”

Mickey licked his lips and nodded, his eyes too wide, bulging and he wanted to peel Ian out of those boxers. “Yeah, so what the hell…” Ian didn’t stay to listen, he smiled and walked into the bathroom, and he could hear the shower start.

Mickey followed because how could he not? Ian fuckin knew it too. That asshole. Mickey fought the urge to kick at his jeans when he stepped past them. “Ian.”

“My speed Mick and I want to shower. You have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve showered with anyone?” 

He couldn’t see Ian yet, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t know the right answer. For Mickey, he hadn’t showered with someone in like 2 decades. Too intimate. He could hear the shower door open and close again. 

“You said it was my speed…” Ian whined as he leaned into the water. “Please baby?”

Mickey stopped in the doorway, Ian’s borrowed boxers in a puddle on the ground. Fuck. He groaned. Ian was naked on the other side of that opaque shower wall. He could see the arch of Ian’s back as he tipped his head under the water and the groan, he let out was just as sexy as the image. 

Apparently, neither of them gave two fucks about his heart problem any more. Thank God. Ian was treating him like a terminal cancer patient and not a man in recovery. He needed to flex those heart muscles, make em stronger….right? Nothin to make them strong like a sexy as fuck, naked wet guy in his bathroom. 

“Shit.” Mickey shook his head and slipped off his own boxers, leaving them next to the first pair. This was it, the moment of truth. There was nothing more truthful than being naked. There was no room to hide, no where to turn. No inch of skin untouched. He would see all of Ian, fuck…all of him. And Ian would do the same, only probably with less enthusiasm. 

His hand shook a little as he reached for the shower door and opened inch by inch and he was blasted by the hot steam and all the glory that was Ian Gallagher. If possible, his dick hardened even more as he was greeted with the spectacular sight of Ian under the water, red hair a dark orange color, slicked back, eyes closed, back arched and all of him was on display.

“Fuck.” He kept his eyes shut as he stepped in and closed it behind him. Now he was naked…alone and with Ian. NAKED. His heart would give out any minute. He fuckin knew it. 

“Baby…” Ian all but purred as he opened his eyes to see Mickey’s beautiful, naked body. “Jesus Christ.” He started at the bottom, taking in strong calves, thick thighs he wanted to sink his teeth into, the small v of his hips, defined but so fucking there he wanted to leave finger shaped bruises. His dark happy trail that lead to his mouth watering cock. Just the perfect length but thicker than he imagined, the tip was wet and his balls heavy and Ian wanted to sink to his knees with his mouth open wide. 

Mickey could feel him staring. He could hear that panting growl Ian was so good at. It brought goosebumps to his arms and made his heart pound painfully. He kinda felt stupid with his eyes closed but he knew he couldn’t handle Ian’s reaction.

Ian stepped closer, so close that normal tingle Mickey felt, turned into pure energy. “Ian.” His voice was thick, deep and just a slight bit desperate.

“Show me your eyes baby.” Ian leaned in, one hand braced against the wall behind Mickey, the other moving to his chin, turning his face so Ian had a clear shot at his ear. “I know you wanna look.” He growled against his ear.

Mickey let out a groan, feeling his dick pulse along with his heart. “M' not sure I can handle it.”

Ian chuckled, beyond satisfied with that answer. “I think you were made to handle it baby.” He grabbed Mickey’s hand and lead it to his hips, just an inch above his dick. “Open those eyes and tell me if you want it."

Mickey opened his eyes and groaned because Ian’s eyes were so fucking dark, looking down into his soul. That cocky smirk on his face belonged there. His eyes moved to his jaw, then his neck, his chest with hard nipples, then his slick abs and finally to see his own hand resting by his hips. One more inch down was the biggest dick he’d ever seen…even in porn.

“Ian…” He groaned and couldn’t look away. Long and thick and right fucking there. Tip wet, balls heavy and he wanted it. “Fuck.”

“Touch me Mick…” Ian begged against his lips. “So fuckin hard for you, because of you. Because of your body…fuck baby, your body makes me so wet.”

Mickey captured his lips and slid his hand down one more inch until Ian was solid and over flowing in his hand. They both groaned as they kissed, hungry, teeth clashing, wet, fucking powerful and Mickey slid his hand up and down, feeling just how wet Ian was. Slicking it down his length.

“M-Mick…” Ian broke the kiss as he stuttered loudly, pushing into his fist. “Please.”

Mickey opened his eyes and bit his lips as he stroked him and watched. Ian fell apart at his hands, clinging to him like a damn octopus, groaning as he pushed into his fist over and over. “So fucking big Ian.” He panted into his mouth before he bit Ian’s bottom lip. 

Ian seemed to realize it was still his speed and reached for Mickey. One hand right to his dick, the other around his waist to bring him closer. Mickey fucking whimpered for him, mumbling against his lips.

“Ian…” Mickey watched his dick slide in and out of Ian’s grasp, making it hard to stand and keep up his end. “Feels fucking good.”

“Wanna taste you baby…” Ian slipped his tongue into Mickey’s mouth. “Please?”

Mickey couldn’t do much more than nod and hope his legs and his heart held out. He gripped both of the bars on either side of the wall and braced his legs as Ian moved back and started to kiss and lick down his neck, biting his collar bones, licking and sucking on his nipples had his legs shaking. 

“Ian…” he begged and watched the taller man sink to his knees, folding his long legs under him as he kissed down his hips. The moment his dick brushed against Ian’s jaw, he about fucking lost it. “Fuck…fucking fuck.”

Ian grinned and rubbed his dick over his cheek, again and again and kept his eyes on Mickey’s face. “So fucking needy for it.” His hands moved up those thick wet thighs, then up to grip his perfect ass and squeezed.

“You’re gonna make me come.” Mickey chuckled, a little breathless. Ian’s fingertips grazed his crack and his body started to tremble. “Wanna watch you.”

Ian grinned salaciously as he quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?” Mickey nodded quick and Ian spread his legs and ran a hand over his own dick, groaning deeply. “Like that?”

One hand moved from the shower bar to tangle into Ian’s wet hair, fisting it. It would be so easy to let go and bust all over Ian’s pretty, pretty face. “Just like that.”

Ian winked and grabbed Mickey with his free hand, rubbing the wet, sticky head over his lips, rubbing his pre-come against his lips and Mickey begged so beautifully for him. 

Pain shot into his chest and fuck it was almost enough to make him pull away, almost. He wouldn’t have risked it was for anyone but Ian. He looked down, gripped Ian’s hair and pulled him forward. “Open up for me Ian.”

Ian groaned and slid his tongue out, saliva dripping down either side. His left hand moved up and down his own dick, making him pant and groan. He moved forward, angled Mickey’s dick right over his tongue and….

“Dad?”

Mickey felt like screaming as Ian paused and quirked an eye at him, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Yev was home. He nearly sobbed as Ian stopped, stopped touching him, stopped touching himself, rose up to his feet and pressed his head against his. “Don’t stop…please! Fuck, you gotta keep going.”

Ian chuckled and slowly ran a finger up Mickey’s dick, smirking when he groaned and closed his eyes. “There is always later baby.”

“I won’t make it…” Mickey whined and kissed him, wrapping his arms around Ian’s neck, moving one of his thighs up against Ian’s until he groaned and pushed him up against the wall. “Fuck! I need to feel your mouth.” 

Ian looked down as their dicks slid together, wet and hard and so fucking good. “You’re gonna feel more of me later.”

Mickey sagged forward, losing the only energy had left. He funneled it all into this moment and it was gone, leaving him exhausted and fucking horny. “God damn it.”

Ian kissed him sweetly and shut the water off and grabbed a towel to wrap around Mickey’s body. “Guess this is what it feels like dating a guy with kids, huh?”

Mickey barked out a laugh and felt how big his smile was. So big it hurt his face and probably reached his ears. He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped out. “Welcome to paradise.”

Ian winked and dried off leaned naked against the sink. “I think I’ll stay.”

Mickey stared openly and licked his bottom lip. Surely there was enough time to put his own mouth to work… Ian chuckled like he knew what he’d been thinking. “What?” Mickey grinned and stepped back into his boxers.

“Go put your dad face on, it’s sexy.”

Mickey noticed that shine in his eye. “Think so?”

Ian looked over his body and nodded. “Fuck yeah.”

That made him grin and find the courage to walk away and grab the nearest pair of sweats and a shirt he could find. Ian sauntered out, naked and went right for those messy sheets, slipping in, naked. Hands tucked behind his head and the white sheet barely covering his groin.

Mickey scuffed, already feeling half hard because of it. “Just gonna fuckin lay there?”

Ian nodded and slide a hand slowly down his body and under the sheet. He gasped as he gripped himself and started to stroke, still out of sight. “Just getting warmed up baby.”

Mickey started to take his shirt off, but Ian stopped him with a snort. “What? How can I just fuckin leave…?”

“I’ll be here when you get back.” Ian bit his lip, cocked one leg to the side so the sheet fell away but still kept him covered. “Hurry baby.”

Mickey growled and flipped him off. “Asshole.” He stormed out and slammed his door but could still hear Ian chuckling, one that turned into a groan…then another one and fuck, he was hard again as he turned the corner and saw Yev standing near the door.

This was the last thing he expected tonight. Shit, he hadn’t expected that shit with Ian either but at least looking at Ian didn’t hurt like this did. Just seeing his son, standing by the door in his heavy jacket and snowy boots, like he didn’t belong anymore…that was fucking painful.

Yev gave him a small smile and Mickey did his best to return it. What did they say now? What did they talk about? Amara and all that shit? Mickey knew he wasn’t ready for any of that. Not right now. “What’s up?”

Yev shrugged. “Wanted to stop by and see how you were.”

Mickey nodded. “You ain’t gotta stand there like that kid, this is still your place.” He left Yev there to make up his own mind and went ahead and readied the coffee maker for morning. He would need it. After a moment, Yev sat down at the bar, no jacket or shoes.

“So, how are you feeling?” Yev asked again.

Mickey put the coffee can back and turned to lean against the counter as he looked at his son. He looked…different. Like a stranger. A pulsing pain dug into his heart and he scrunched up his face as he rubbed over it. Yup, no way was he doing any of THAT talk tonight. 

“M' fine Yev. You didn’t have to come so late.” Distance…distance would help. Keep him at arms length and keep that tidal wave of emotions out. 

“I wanted to. You really scared the shit outta me.”

Mickey nodded. It had scared him too. Ian for sure. “Didn’t plan on croaking any time soon. I’m good.”

That was a lie. He didn’t lie to his son, not much and not if the truth was simple, easy. But this wasn’t. Nothing about their relationship was simple anymore. It would never to go back to how it was. Mickey knew it wasn’t possible. There was no trust any more. So, he lied. He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t fine. Pretty far from it.

And from the look Yev gave him, much like the look the other night…he knew it was different too. That’s what hurt the most. What they lost. 

“Are you taking some time off? At least until you’re better?” Yev asked hopefully.

“No need. I’m fine, doctor signed my release and I have a case to solve.” He didn’t say how hard it would be now…without a partner. His partner… He wouldn’t be that cruel. Not to Yev. To Amara…fuck yes. But Yev was….fuck, Yev was Yev and he fucking loved him. 

“Can we…uh, ya know? Talk about what happened?”

“No.” It was clipped short, but not snappy and Yev still jumped. Fuck. “Even on my best day, not the night after I have a heart attack would I be able to talk about this with you.” Yev nodded and seemed to shrink in his chair. “I’m not tryin to be a dick here, but you understand why I can’t, right?”

Yev nodded and wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Physically, I don’t think my body can’t do it now.” Already the pain started as he kept thinking of all the things they couldn’t talk about. “Just…” he sighed, “go back to your moms.”

Yev sniffed. “You don’t want me here.”

That was not stated as a question. “At the moment? Because of….that, no. Not really.” Fuck, he didn’t think it would be that hard to say. Or would feel that fucking shitty. “I won’t lie to you bud, that shit…something changed. We changed.”

Yev nodded, unable to stop the tears as they fell. “I know.”

“Maybe later talking will help…but I won’t do it now. Anything that would be said…fuck, I would regret half of it, and I don’t want to do that.”

Yev stood and took a deep breath. “Yeah, no, I get it. Uh, just need to grab something and I’ll just go.”

Mickey felt that first tear trail down his cheek when Yev walked down the hall and the clenching in his chest was so tight, so painful, it nearly knocked his knees out from under him. “Shit.” He hissed through clenched teeth and held onto the counter.

“Easy baby.”

He wanted to fucking bawl like a baby at that soft sound of Ian’s voice behind him. Ian’s arms circled him from behind, taking half his weight as he relaxed. “Maybe I should just—”

“No Mick. You can’t right now. You and him both know that.” He nuzzled into his neck. “He needs to think about his shit, and you need to get better.”

Ian was right. It seemed like he always was. Yev came back around the corner and had a backpack tossed over one shoulder. School. 

“Uh, I picked you up some food. Put it in the microwave. Figured…”

Mickey nodded and moved away from Ian to walk to Yev. The kid was crying steadily, quietly. But his shoulders were back, chin up. He was dealing with it. 

“Thank you.” Yev nodded and headed towards the door. Mickey couldn’t help himself, he grabbed his arm and pulled him into an awkward, but loving hug and Yev clung to him tightly. “I love you.”

“Love you too dad.” Yev squeezed tighter, sniffling. “I’m so sorry.”

Mickey nodded and his grip tightened when his chest did, making his heart skip a beat, then 2, then 4. He took a deep breath and tried to breathe past it. “I know.” 

The hug ended and Yev left without another word. Mickey locked the door and turned back, but Ian wasn’t standing there, he had given them a moment of privacy and Mickey didn’t know if he wanted that or not. He clicked off the lights and walked down to his room, taking his shirt off along the way. 

Ian was back in his bed, that same leg cocked to the side, but Mickey could see the stripe of gray material stretched across his hips. Ian smiled at him and motioned him forward and Mickey switched off the light, kicked off his sweats and crawled between the sheets. 

“Come here baby.” Ian whispered and held his arms open.

Mickey smiled and wiggled closer until both Ian’s arms circled his body, his head on Ian’s bare chest, right over his heart. The world always seemed less scary like this, with Ian wrapped around him. Maybe it was because the worst had already happened, and Ian was still here, smiling, happy. Happy with him. If Ian could be happy in death, surely the rest of them could be happy with life. 

“I don’t want tomorrow to come.”

Ian’s voice was barely a whisper and Mickey leaned up to look at his face, or what he could see in the dark. Green eyes wide, fearful. Mickey pressed their foreheads together and caressed Ian’s cheek. “Do you want to stay here?”

“No.” he said almost too quickly and felt that panic take over. “I’m not gonna leave you. Not ever again.”

He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “M' not gonna leave you either. Gonna be there the whole time.”

It was quiet after that. His head moved down to Ian’s chest. He craved the sound of his heart beat. It seemed to be the only thing to really calm him down. It let him know what Ian was there…alive, even if only for him. That heart beat because of him. Because of what they shared. It went past love. It went past life and death until only fate was there, destiny. 

**

It was easy to plan the visit to the Gallagher house. Mickey had been all hyped up when he viewed the tape of Steve at The Fairy Tale. He’d been ready to speed to the Gallagher house, throw some pictures in his face, make a few accusations and possibly get some answers, even a confession wouldn’t hurt.  


It wasn’t easy. It was a living hell.

Barely 7 in the morning, he stood bundled up on the porch, with Ian holding his hand. He knocked and held his breath as they waited. He wasn’t sure if this would be easier if Steve opened the door or if Fiona did, maybe be could warn her…unless she didn’t believe him…

It was a cluster fuck of a mess.

“Ready?” Mickey asked as the door knob jiggled.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He squeezed Mickey’s hand. “And I won’t leave again.”

Mickey looked at him. He wasn’t going to bring it up, but Ian knew him too well already. He squeezed Ian’s hand in reply and put on a fake smile as the door opened to…Fiona.

“Mickey!” She smiled and pulled him into a hug.

Ian snorted but Mickey hugged her back with one hand. “Fiona, good to see you too.” He chuckled when she moved back. Aside from the dark bags under her eyes, she looked good. Put together…considering and he was about to crush it…again.

“Would you like to come in?” Fiona swept her arm aside as she stepped in.

Mickey nodded and walked in. This was not something that needed to take place on the porch. He gripped Ian’s hand as Fiona walked towards the kitchen. “Where’s your cult?”

Fiona snorted. “School. It’s Monday.” 

Monday. Right… the days kinda blended together. “Seems a little odd that it’s so quiet.” Ian nodded and leaned against him.

“Yeah, but it’s kinda nice. Gives me time to clean up before they come home and destroy it all.”

That was it for small talk. It was nice, but all things nice and sweet would go out the window as soon as he laid down his cards and he wasn’t sure how she would handle it. 

“So, what brings you here?” Fiona smiled tightly and leaned against the counter with her arms folded on her chest. “You look like hell.”

Ian snorted beside him and he couldn’t not smile. “Yeah, that happens with certain cases.” He shrugged because he didn’t want to dig into his drama right now. It wasn’t important. “I was hoping to talk to you and Lip. He here?”

She narrowed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, he is. Lip!!” She yelled and turned to grab her coffee cup, she needed to keep her hands busy.

Lip came running down the stairs like the house was on fire. Quick on his feet and Mickey was impressed that he didn’t trip over the clutter on each stair. “Detective, good to see you.”

Lip extended his hand and Mickey shook it and nodded. “Just Mickey, please. And it’s good to see you too. Face looks painful.” Lip snorted and thumbed at his bruised cheek.

“Yeah, but I bet he looks worse.” Lip smiled and went around Fiona to get some coffee. “Want some?”

Mickey nodded. This was all too friendly. It felt…like family. Better than his own. It was easy going around the Gallagher’s, not just around Ian but all of them. “I made a few breaks in Ian’s case.” Ian squeezed his hand hard and Mickey squeezed back. “I’m not sure what to make of it but I wanted you to be the first to know.”  


Fiona and Lip exchanged a look, a worried look. “Jesus, that sounds like some serious shit.”

Mickey huffed out a tired laugh. “Yeah, it is. Um, I pulled the surveillance tapes from the club on the day Ian was killed.”

Lip nodded and Fiona gripped his arm.

“Ian left about 4, instead of 3 and it shows that someone followed him out of the club.” Fuck, just looking at them, knowing this shit was hard. Why did he only bring them pain? “40 minutes later, Ian was dead.”

Fiona blinked a few tears away. “And you think this person might be responsible?”

Mickey nodded. “We have a few more leads but this one takes priority.” He handed the photos to Lip instead of Fiona. “The first few are of Ian leaving and you can see the time stamp set at about 4.” 

Lip flipped through the first 4 photos to see Ian, exactly at 4 smoking.

“The next few are of the man who followed him out.” Mickey felt Ian’s arms come around his waist and buried his head between his shoulders.

“Mickey…” Fiona didn’t get to finish her sentence because Lip cursed next to him. “What?”

Lip looked at him, eyes wide and a little angry. “Is this real?”

Mickey nodded. “I’m afraid it is.”

Fiona huffed and snagged the photos. “What the hell is wrong with—” she looked down and recognized the face staring back up at her. She looked at Lip, then Mickey, then down at the photo again. “No, this—this must be a mistake.”

Mickey set his cup down. Lip had already accepted it. His face angry, eyes watery and his arms were crossed in defense. “I’m sorry Fiona. But it’s him.”

She laughed, an exasperated sound. “No, no. Why—how…no, this must be wrong.” She sniffed and tossed them onto the counter and crossed her arms. “Steve wasn’t there. He has no reason to go there.”

“No, he doesn’t.” And that was one of the points he had been trying to make. “I’m not saying he’s guilty here Fiona but that’s why I need to talk to him.” 

“Does anything point to him?” Lip askes carefully.

“I can’t disclose the details, but so far this is the only thing that links him.” Hopefully they didn’t relay that to his Captain, otherwise he would be in deep shit. “I don’t believe he killed Ian but right now, he’s the last person to see him alive.”

Ian pressed his nose behind Mickey’s ear. “She won’t give him up. Gallagher’s don’t snitch.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is.” She snapped, eyes hard.

Mickey understood her anger and the fear. Someone she loved had been murdered and the last person to see him alive was her boyfriend. “Fiona, all I want to do is ask him what he was doing there.”

“Why? Why are you doin this Mickey?” her voice broke enough to let out a sliver of emotion. “Steve loved Ian like family. He wouldn’t do this.”

“I’m trying to find out the truth and I need to talk to him.” 

Fiona glared at him, eyes no longer friendly but accusatory and pissed the hell off. She was scared he was right, and she hated herself for doubting Steve. She couldn’t control it any more than he could. Lip was another story. He was angry for another reason, but Fiona was his sister.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” 

Ian was shivering against his back, crying and it pissed him off. “Look, it’s only a matter of time before I find him and hash all this shit out. The longer he hides, the guiltier he seems.”

Fiona didn’t answer him. Just gathered up the papers in a neat stack and pushed them hard into his chest. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

Lashing out wouldn’t help. She wouldn’t hear anything he had to say right now, truth or not because she was doubting herself, Steve and their entire relationship. She needed to work through that shit before she would understand.

Mickey grabbed the photos, nodded once at Lip because right now, of the two, he was more level headed, and walked out. Ian glued to his back, unable to keep the sounds quiet any more. The moment he closed the door, Ian was on him and Mickey wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

“Why won’t she help me?” Ian cried and put his face into Mickey’s neck. “I need her to help me.”

Mickey rubbed up and down his back, trying his best to make it so Fiona wasn’t the asshole here because she really wasn’t. “Ian, she’s been through a lot, just like you. She doesn’t want to believe it was him.”

“I hate this.” Ian sobbed.

Fuck. He hated this shit too and wanted to go yell at her for making Ian this upset. But that wouldn’t help Ian to yell at his distraught sister. “Don’t worry Ian, I’m gonna find him okay?”

Ian nodded and pulled back. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

Mickey cupped his puffy face, wiped the tears away and moved up to quickly kiss his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either.” Ian smiled and kissed him, a little deeper this time and he could feel it sink into his bones. “Come on, let’s getcha ass outta here.”


	11. JJS

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 11- JJS

So finding Steve in the most obvious place turned out to be a bust. Just talking to her had felt like Mickey had run a damn triathlon. Ian tried to warn him, “Gallagher’s Don’t Snitch.” A good oath to have within a tight circle, unless it was impeding on his investigation. He thought she would be a little more helpful since Ian was her brother. The fact that she didn’t…well, that tore Ian up. 

He hadn’t said much in the car on the way back to the precinct. He just stared out the window with a sad look on his face, his hand tightly linked with Mickey’s. Unwilling to let go. 

There was nothing he could do about that. Not a damn thing. He couldn’t cheer Ian up with hopeless promises that Fiona might come around to help, or Lip. It wasn’t realistic. He didn’t want to get his hopes up just for his big sister, who was practically his mother, to smash those hopes and leave him in a worse state then this current one. 

Mickey decided to keep sticking to the plan. Steve had been strike one. But there were other avenues to look into. He was currently having Archie check the Gallagher’s financials, records, school shit and work, anything that might link them to Steve…no last name and Mickey’s ‘Mister Tight Pants' nick name wasn’t helpful. They needed to find him and figure out what the fuck was going on. 

Last but not least, Mickey needed to find that large freezer Mags had mentioned. Ian was a fucking giant. You can’t keep him in a mini fridge stashed into a corner in your garage. It would need to be at least 7 foot tall and 5 foot wide just to have enough room. That’s a walk in freezer and he knows of a place right off the bat that would have one.

Kash & Grab. 

They had a large walk in freezer for inventory, stocking the coolers. He wasn’t sure it could get cold enough to freeze a body partially through, but he wasn’t going to chance it. He also needed to speak to Kash about why Ian was found with his gun, bullet in his head and everything. 

They had a full day planned already and it hadn’t even started yet, and they were both fucking exhausted. Mickey pulled into his space and cut the car off, waiting to see if Ian would snap out of his little stare-a-thon before he had to pull him out. 

“Here already?” Ian blinked like they just left Fiona’s. 

Mickey nodded, disassociation. A very common thing to do. He was trying to take himself out of this as much as he could, for protection. To keep his mind and heart intact. Some truths just needed to stay between professionals. 

“Maybe you should lay down when we get in? Crash for a bit.” He really hoped Ian said yes. Any more secrets uncovered, and he was afraid that bond, now a fragile thread instead of a chain, might break again. 

“Are you gonna come with me?”

Oh, his heart...he was so gone on this kid. “That sounds like paradise Ian.” He finally smiled. “But I gotta take care of some shit first.”

“And I need to take care of you.” 

Fuck, this kid… Mickey smiled and leaned over, surprising Ian when he kissed him. Ian fell into it quickly, softly groaning and gripping the back of his neck. Small moments like this, kissing, holding hands or just being close, helped solidify that weak bond into something stronger; unbreakable. 

Ian laughed as he pulled back. “What was that for?”

Mickey blushed, he really didn’t wanna have to explain why. Instead, he scuffed and playfully swatted at him. “Didn’t realize I needed a fuckin reason.”

Ian’s eyebrows rose as a smirk bloomed on his face. “By all means baby, kiss me for no reason at all.”

So he did. Mickey pulled him back by the collar of his shirt and practically made Ian lean into the center if he wanted more. He did, Ian was trying to crawl across the center console to get at him. One hand already up his shirt, right against his heart because it belonged there.

Mickey pulled back enough to nibble Ian’s bottom lip enough for him to growl and pull his hair. He hissed and pulled away, his teeth still locked onto Ian’s lip. 

“Fuck.” Ian moaned and followed after him. 

“Still think I need a reason?” Mickey panted after he released it, grinning as it turned a sexy shade of pink. “Hmm?”

“Can’t think of a single reason why not.” He smiled and bumped their noses together before he pulled away. 

His heart was beating like a caged animal and all the pain that followed was worth it to see Ian smiling like that. If his heart could survive the shower, it could damn sure survive a heated make out session. 

“Come on, let’s get this shit started.” Mickey kissed him once more before he pulled away, probably unable to be close like that for a few long, excruciating hours. 

As always, the precinct was busy, but as soon as he walked in, all eyes turned to him. They looked a little shocked that he was back at work, but that faltered soon after and people started to tell him how happy they were that he was okay. He blushed his way past the crowd, pretending to scowl but they knew him better than that. 

“You’re so sexy when you smile like that.”

Mickey scuffed but winked at Ian. He felt the same damn way each time Ian smiled. Jesus, they were like an old married couple already. And of course, whoever controlled the universe decided to smack that happy smile off his face with a hard slap. There was someone at his desk.

Amara.

For a while, they just stared at each other. Like those old Wild West movies, face to face, about five feet apart with their hands on their guns…okay, so not that but Mickey’s hand moved to brush his coat out of the way for a quick draw. 

“Mother fucker.” Mickey clenched his jaw and wanted to shoot him in the face.

“If you have another heart attack, I’m gonna fucking haunt you.”

Mickey gave him a look, a disappointed look.

Ian huffed. “In a bad way, asshole. Just calm the hell down.” Ian rubbed a hand over his heart. “Our heart is fucking hurting.”

Our heart.

Mickey felt some of that anger drift away at Ian’s words. Their heart. One and the same. Mickey wanted to kiss him when he said sweet shit like that. Ian looked over and winked because the fucker knew what he did to him. Unbelievable. 

Amara didn’t approach him. He just waited there. Hands clasped in front, dark eyes sad. Just as he looked the other night.

“I love him.”

Like hell he did. Yev was a smart kid, a bright kid. He could kick ass when he needed to and be compassionate when he needed to be. But he was also a kid, a hormonal 16 year old horny ass kid who just wanted sex. Yev didn’t know how to be in love yet. Most adults didn’t even know. And somehow Amara thought he had the right to push ‘love' onto his kid? 

Fuck no. 

Moments like this, he really wished he would have been kept in the dark. That blissful place where everything is right in the world. Where Yev got suspended for fighting and Amara was happy with his wife. When he no longer had to think about the hickeys on their necks and Amara sneaking off before cases to meet him and rubbing it right into his ignorant face. 

Yes, Mickey wanted to be in the dark. To be happy. 

“Mick…”

He took a deep breath and willed his heart, their heart, to calm the fuck down. He would take care of himself just to insure that Ian was taken care of. “I’m good.” He didn’t glance at Ian but saw him nod. “If I was gonna shoot him, it wouldn’t be in a room full of cops.”

“Mickey.” Ian warned.

“And…they’d never find him.” He finished with a snort. Ian scuffed next to him but didn’t comment. He just moved forward with him, that ever calming presence that he started to rely on. 

When he stopped within arm’s reach of Amara, Mickey gave nothing away. Not the pain Amara caused or the actual pain that coursed through his body. He put on his cop face, arms crossed and looked at him.

“The fuck you want?”

“Seriously baby…that’s what you’re gonna go with?” Ian scuffed and tossed his arms up. “Jesus Christ.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, dropped the overly defensive posture and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Death by strangulation was frowned upon as well as a gun. When Amara didn’t answer, his irritation, as well as his eyebrows shot up. “Well? I don’t have all day.”

“Mick, please. We just need to talk.”

Mickey laughed and thumbed at the corner of his mouth. “Talk huh? We ain’t got fuck all to talk about Nick. You wanna fight it out, come back when I’m not fuckin busy.”

Look, I know you’re mad but—”

Mickey twirled around as he cut him off. “Mad? IF I’m mad…oh, like you only borrowed a cup of sugar or borrowed some money.” He scuffed, unable to believe this shit was really happening. “Damn right I’m mad.”

“Baby…” Ian rubbed his chest again, feeling it pulse fast.

Mickey ignored him. “If I’m mad… okay, let’s get this in your head, yeah?” Amara clenched his jaw and looked fucking awful. “Picture Jasmine, or Maria at 16.”

When Amara's eyebrows went up at the mention of his daughters, Mickey knew after this, he would understand. 

“16 years old and fucking beautiful. Imagine it.” He waited for that picture to flash into his mind. “Now, picture some 25 year old guy, maybe someone you trusted more than anyone in the whole fuckin world, imagine him fucking your daughters behind your back.”

Mickey wanted to be sick. He felt sick just for sayin this shit. It was fucked up. Him and Yev was fucked up. And judging by that greenish tint to his face, Amara was finally seeing it from his point of view.

“Jesus Mick.” Ian shivered at the image and he’d never even seen Amara's kids, but it was a low blow. 

Amara just opened and closed his mouth and Mickey had to rub that image from his mind. Now he felt like an asshole but Jesus, Yev was his kid, his son. “Tell me how you would be okay with that?”

“I guess I wouldn’t.” Amara said quietly, thinking to himself before he spoke. “And even after that horrifying image…I still can’t not want him Mick.” 

“Damn it.” Ian muttered and leaned against the desk. He couldn’t help anymore. 

Mickey’s eyebrows rose high up on his face, then down as he glared, and his hand twitched to palm his gun. “I’m doin my best to take someone’s advice and calm the fuck down, but if you say that shit again, we both might be takin a trip to the hospital.”

“Just hear me out!” Amara pushed both hands into his hair, unable to control the amount of emotion in his voice. “He makes me happy Mick. He’s funny and sweet and sharp as a damn knife and I was happy.”

Mickey scrunched his face. He didn’t need a list of the reasons why his son would make a great boyfriend. He knew all that shit already. But Amara was not that boyfriend. Not at age 25 to Yev’s 16. 

“How can do even do that Nicky?” the little nick name slipped out as he tried not to eat his stupid face off. “Jesus fuck, you work in SEX CRIMES. We, as in you and me, used to arrest sick assholes for this very same shit and you pick NOW, you pick my kid to be okay with it?”

“It’s not like that Mick! Shit isn’t always about sex when you’re with someone.” 

That caused him to pause. As much as he wanted to disagree, one look at Ian, to see green eyes already looking at him, he couldn’t. It wasn’t always about sex. It wasn’t like that with Ian. Hell, they hadn’t even had sex. Came damn close, but he was connected with Ian beyond the physical shit.

But Mickey also remembered how it was to be 16, horny enough to fuck everything with two legs and on a dick hunt. You don’t think about that “deeper” shit. It’s all about the physical. And if what he heard behind Yev’s door, what he saw had gotten started, they were definitely into the physical. Fucking gross. 

“You know he’s right.”

He really wanted to flip Ian the bird right now. Like he didn’t know Amara was right. Didn’t mean he had to like it. Or be okay with it. He was not okay with it. 

“Ya know,” he started but paused to take a deep breath. “Even if this wasn’t Yev, and it was just some 16 year old chick, or guy, I’d still have a problem with it. That’s 9 fuckin years Nicky.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Amara snapped back. “You think this has been easy? It has been hell.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all that moanin shit sounded like hell.”

Amara flinched. He deserved that. “I don’t even know when it started, or how. I’ve never been into younger people before Mick. I like them older. But I don’t know what happened.”

Mickey chose not to say anything, and Ian came up behind him, kissing the back of his ear was his reward. 

“One day, I just saw him. How good of a person he was, smart and funny and we clicked. We clicked hard.” Amara took a deep shuttering breath. “He was the one to come onto me first and I said no. I didn’t fuckin want to, but I said no. I told him all the shit you just told me.”

“Baby, just listen.” His hands tightened around his arms when he felt like he was trying to lurch forward and strangle Amara. 

Mickey leaned back just enough to feel Ian’s mouth on his neck, kissing him. It was soothing. Kept him calm as Amara continued. 

“I told him it was wrong. Because I was older and because of you. Of how much we care about you.” Amara rubbed over his face. “I stayed away Mick. I was fucking miserable without him, but I stayed away.”

Deep breath. Ian’s kiss. Deep breath. Ian’s kiss. 

“You remember that fight we had back on New Year’s? The party when Nina tried to get me to fuck her in the bathroom at the damn party?” 

He did remember it. Their precinct hosted the party this last New Year’s and it had been off the hook. He had a fuckin blast and even got some dick. But that night had been rough on Amara. He’d been touchy, angry all the time. Mickey finally thought when Nina tried to drag him into the bathroom for a little semipublic sex, it would be good. Total opposite. Amara freaked the fuck out and left.

“I remember. What about it?”

“That’s when Yev got fed up with me saying no. He hated me for saying no. For trying to be a fucking responsible adult. He said if I didn’t want him, that someone else would.”

The hurt in Amara’s voice, in his words was real. As real as his feelings were for Ian. If someone told him what he felt for Ian was wrong, he would probably kick their asses. Same if someone told him he couldn’t be with him.

“Mick, you do realize I’m 22, right?” Ian whispered along his ear.

Mickey trembled at the feeling. But he nodded slightly so Amara didn’t ask.

“Baby, that’s 13 years between us.” Ian nuzzled his neck, kissing over the goose bumped skin. “Does this feel wrong?” he pushed his hips forward, so they lightly rubbed against Mickey’s ass.

Fuck. This was not helping. Ian wasn’t rock hard, but he was getting there. Mickey could feel him. And no, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt good, right. They were right for each other. “No, it doesn’t.” He whispered as Amara turned to pace.

“Just hear him out. Please.” Ian licked along his ear. “Be good for me, and I’ll say thank you very, very slowly.”

“Son of a bitch.” He hissed and let his jacket fall back over his groin. Ian had gotten him hard in under 20 words. But if Ian was promising him THAT…he could listen a while longer.

“I freaked out Mick.” Amara turned to face him, near tears because he was so hurt, upset, emotional. “He said he was going to find someone else. Someone who wasn’t me. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Mickey shook his head. He didn’t. Ian hadn’t done that to him. Ian was his and he was Ian’s. 

“I just….I had to show him, I had to stop him. I couldn’t let him be with someone who wasn’t me.” 

It seemed like Amara had run out of steam and with a light swat to his ass, Ian moved away and let him handle it. Or attempt to. It didn’t help that Mickey understood what it felt like to have that unquestionable connection. For fuck sakes, Ian was dead, and Mickey was with him. 

“Look Nicky, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t understand.” He looked to Ian, who gave him that sweet smile. “Because I do, trust me. But that’s my son. It might be different if Yev was older, 18 at least an adult. But that’s only part of the reason I’m so upset.”

Amara nodded because he knew.

“You’re my partner Nicky. My best friend.” His chest was starting to pound the more upset he became. He put a hand on his chest and felt it stutter. “You lied to me, for fuck knows how long. You sneak around to meet my son. And then play the hickeys off like that’s normal and I’m just supposed to smile and be okay with it?”

“I’m not asking you to forgive me Mick. I know why you won’t, why you can’t. Fuck, I even know that we are finished. As everything. Best friends, partners. Colleagues. It’s all gone.” His voice cracked. 

It was all gone. 2 years’ worth. Nearly 3 in a few months. Over. Gone. Over what? Love, sex? Aside from this shit not being legal, would he be able to get past it? To accept it? For Yev’s happiness? 

“It is gone Nicky. We…” he swallowed thickly, past that giant lump in his throat. “We just can’t…we can’t be us anymore. Partners. Friends. Not until some time has passed.”

Amara nodded and didn’t bother to wipe the tears from his face. More would just replace them. “I know. I’m sorry for everything and thank you for listening.” 

Mickey nodded. “Take care of yourself Nicky.” Amara gave him some resemblance of his old smile and walked away, maybe forever. And it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. A sharp pain flowed through his entire body and Ian caught him before his legs gave out and helped him walk to his chair.

“I said to take it easy.” Ian gripped both arms of the chair and leaned down. 

Mickey nodded. “I know.”

Ian sighed heavily and dropped to his knees so he could see Mickey’s face. He was crying. “Baby…” he brushed the tears away and brought their heads together. “Just give it some time. Okay? To think and talk to Yev.”

“I will.” He replied weakly. “I’m fine.”

Ian didn’t believe him for a second. His hand dropped down to Mickey’s chest and rubbed slowly, feeling him relax with each pass of his hand over his heart. “I know you’re not baby, and that’s okay. But I’m here for you.”

Mickey kissed the palm on his cheek and linked his fingers with Ian’s that rested on his chest. He knew Ian was there. Of course he knew that, but he wanted Ian to say it, and he did. 

“You have no idea how much you mean to me Ian.” He whispered and wanted so badly to have Ian closer to him. On him, all around him. He wanted to feel safe in the cage of Ian’s arms. “And I can’t even explain it.”

Ian moved closer, wiggling between his legs to press the front of his body against his own and Mickey had to fight not to lock his legs and arms around him. The closer Ian was, the better he felt.

“You don’t have to explain baby.” Ian laid his head down on his chest, hearing the beautiful sound of that beating heart. “I already know.”

Mickey smiled and let his eyes slip closed. He probably looked odd, sprawled out in his chair, alone at his desk and smiling like an idiot, but he didn’t give a shit. Not with Ian touching him. Not with the silent ‘I love you' exchange that came so easily for both of them. They knew what they were, what they had, and Mickey was afraid it was the same thing Yev and Amara had.  


It was real.

**

Mickey rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat in Archie's lab and listened to him yack on about shit he didn’t care about. Archie was a special creature. He could give you the first steps a person ever took and the last, and everything in between but it wasn’t free. The little nerd demanded you converse with him about one geeky topic or another. 

It didn’t matter how much Archie moved his hands back and forth and explained every detail, Mickey never heard any of it. It was all white noise to him. It was the reason his head was pounding. Ian on the other hand, looked like he was one step away from asking the geek to marry him. 

That traitor. 

The moment Archie pulled out his phone to show him something, Mickey put a stop to it. He grabbed the phone and stuffed it into his pocket, leaving Archie looking a little too shocked considering it was only his phone. 

“Archie, please.” He begged, hands held out in front of him. “I have been listening to this for the past hour and I just can’t anymore.”

Ian chuckled and leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. “You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

Mickey shot a quick glare at him and turned back to Archie. “Please, just give me my shit so I can get back to work.”

Archie huffed but did as he was asked and stopped talking about Star Wars long enough to gather all the information he compiled. “I dug up everything I could find.”

Mickey smirked at Ian and took the folder from Archie. “Okay, anything that mentions the guy named Steve?”

“Sorry Detective. I went through everything. Starting from Frank Gallagher, all the way to the end of the line with 8 year old Liam Gallagher. And there is no mentions of anyone named Steve.”

“How is that possible?” Ian asked and stood behind Mickey to look over the cluster of papers inside.

“I don’t understand.” Mickey turned the pages so Ian could keep reading. “This guy has been around this family long enough to cry when they got the news about Ian. He has been around for what…” he looked at Ian.

“5 years.”

“For 5 years,” he looked back to Archie. “That’s a fuck of a long time to not leave a trail. They have bills to pay, kids to take care of. Not to mention school and all that shit.”

“Look, I can only tell you what I found. Fiona Gallagher is the guardian of Carl, Debbie and Liam Gallagher, the older one Phillip lives in New York, goes to college, full ride so no money trail. The kids go to school, Fiona works at Patsy’s Pies and brings home barely enough to put food on the table.”

Mickey snapped his fingers. “See! She can’t work at the dinner and take care of 3 kids, rent, utilities, anything school wise, not to mention any doctor bills. There has to be money coming from somewhere else.”

“Can you turn the page?” Ian mumbled, aggravated he couldn’t just do it. He didn’t wanna freak Archie out with his Ghosty activities.

Mickey flipped the page again and caught Archie looking at it. He hadn’t even been paying attention to the file so why flip the pages? Oh yeah, cuz his….Ian, was a ghost and couldn’t do weird shit around normal folks.

“There is a good chunk of income coming from somewhere, yes but I have no idea where.”

Mickey sat down at the table and automatically flipped another page. “You check her financials? Any bank activity or savings or pending loans?” 

“Her current balance is in the negative, and there have been no heavy cash withdrawals in the last month. So, if this Steve guy was funneling money into the Gallagher household, it was all in cash and on hand. No banks or deposit boxes. Nothing traceable.”

“Fuck!!” Mickey slammed his fist against the table. The papers shifted but it didn’t startle Ian. “This guy is not a fucking ghost.”

Ian snorted and went behind Mickey to wrap his arms around his chest. “No, he’s not. He’s just careful.”

Mickey relaxed instantly from that simple touch and was able to take a deep breath. “Okay, I guess this shit just proves how careful they are but why all the secrets and loopholes? I know having Frank for a dad is bad enough and she might be afraid he could access the money from the bank, but she wouldn’t just leave cash layin around. That’s too risky.”

Archie nodded. “I can keep searching but honestly, I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy finding him. They know their way around the law and how to skirt the details. You gotta get them to talk to you.”

Mickey groaned as he stood and grabbed the file. “Thanks Archie, if you do find something…”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know. And take it east, yeah? You look like shit.”

“Fuck you too.” He grumbled halfway out the door and straight to the break room for coffee. “So, that was a waste of time.” He poured two cups of coffee and added the correct amount of sugar to each one without thinking about it. It was habit now and Ian seemed to notice and smiled. “Just drink it Casper.”

Ian shoved him and took a seat at their table. “Insults about death are beneath you detective.”

Now it was Mickey’s turn to snort and shove Ian over. He pulled him back the second after, happy when Ian scooted over and kissed his cheek. “Anything you can tell me about Steve?” He asked after a moment, running his free hand over Ian’s side.

“Not as much as you’d like. He just kinda showed up one day and never left. Fiona met him at a club, and he came home with her and stayed. He’s been there ever since.”

Mickey nodded. “Did he ever say what he did for a living?”

“Not in so many words.” Ian glanced at him, weary about telling him the truth at first, but it wouldn’t hurt anything. They wouldn’t have proof. “But he did have a new car every week or so.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “I’m gonna assume stolen and not traded out. Probably lifting them and takin em to a chop shop. That’s risky, but it pays a hefty amount of cash.”

“I didn’t ask too many questions. He always tried to keep us out of it. Saying that he had shit handled and the money…well, they needed it.”

“Ian,” he turned Ian’s head to look at him. “I’ve done worse shit than boost cars for cash okay. I get it. You had people to take care of. Don’t feel bad okay?”

Ian nodded and leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

Mickey didn’t want to stop. He wanted more, always more with Ian. And he took it. When Ian turned back to their coffee, he pressed his face into Ian’s neck and kissed him, over and over. Soft, wet kisses along his neck, then up to nip his ear.

“Baby…” Ian groaned and gripped his thigh, turning his head to give him more room. “We shouldn’t…not here.”

Mickey nodded. “I know, but I really want to.” He kissed him once more and pulled back. Ian was panting softly, green eyes dark. “Later?”

Ian grinned. “Yes later. Maybe finish that shower we never got done with.”

Mickey shivered and remembered just how Ian looked on his knees, mouth wide open, tongue about to wrap around the head of his…. “Jesus Christ…we need to stop unless we leave.”

“Work first, then we play.” Ian winked. 

Play. Yes, he wanted to play. Not work. Fuck, Ian was turning him into a sexual deviant. He blew out a chest full of sexually charged air and tried to shake it off.

“Okay, aside from the cars is there anything else? We can’t trace them, the chop shops or the cash. What about family? Did he ever mention anything about his family, where he as from or anything like that?”

“He never mentioned his family, if anything he made sure we didn’t know. I guess that’s weird, but I do the same thing considering who my parents are.”

Mickey nodded. He knew all about that. 

“But he isn’t South Side. Not even a little bit. You’ve seen how he dresses, his stupid hair…shit, he’s prettier than Fiona.” He chuckled. “But he hustles like he belongs here. There has to be a middle ground.”

“Has Steve ever come to your work before?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s as straight as they come, and I don’t think he’d like the competition there. Why?”

“I’m just trying to see if he had a reason to go there, side from you. Give Fiona a reason to ask why he was there if not for you.” Mickey was tempted to haul her ass in and grill her for information, but she was stubborn to the core. 

“I don’t think it’s him Mick.” Ian said quietly, scooting closer so he was between Mickey’s thighs as he sat sideways. 

“No?” Ian shook his head and Mickey wrapped an arm around him. “Why not?”

“You saw his face when you were there. He was crying.”

Mickey shook his head. “Its gotta be more than that Ian. I’ve seen people act worse than that and it doesn’t prove innocence.”

“Mick, he was ugly crying. Like snot and all. Pretty guys don’t just ugly cry all the time. They sniffle a little and don’t want to ruin their makeup.”

Mickey laughed. “As much as I trust your judgement on the way pretty boys cry, I need more. I need to talk to him.”

It didn’t seem promising. He didn’t have the time to stalk Fiona's house and wait until Steve decided to show up. Mickey could almost bet that Fiona called and warned him, keeping him away from the house. 

“Come on.” Mickey stood up and set their cups in the sink.

“Where?” Ian stood and wrapped his arms around himself.

Mickey took one look at him and shrugged his jacket off and handed it over. Ian smiled that smile and damn it, he smiled too. “I figured you’d have taken one of mine before we left this morning.”

Ian shook his head and shrugged the jacket on. “Yeah, I guess I could, but it wouldn’t smell like you.”

Mickey fought off his grin and cocked his head to the side. “You tryn to tell me I smell?”

Ian moved to stand in front of him, grabbed him by his sides and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. Ian took a deep breath and groaned. “You just smell so good.”

“Yeah?” his voice was soft, uncertain with Ian so close. It messed with his brain. “And you like it?”

Ian ran his nose up the column of his neck, breathing in deep. “I like it a little too much.” He moved his hands around to Mickey’s back, holding him close.

Something happened to his brain around Ian. Like someone cut out pieces, hunks of time and it skipped head when he wasn’t looking. Shit just disappeared when they touched. They were so in sync, so connected that he felt consumed by it. Taken over. Touched on every surface of his body and every hidden part in his mind and soul. 

Mickey had to touch him. He wasn’t sure if it was for reassurance, to repair that bond as soon as possible, or because he simply just wanted to touch him. Probably all of the above. 

“Didn’t you say we had to go?” Ian smiled as pulled back to see unfocused blue eyes. 

“Yeah, we do.” Mickey slowly walked forward, making Ian shuffle back to avoid falling. He didn’t stop until Ian’s back was against the wall and he was able to lean against his body. “Don’t really wanna go though.”

Ian smirked and separate his feet enough for Mickey to settle in between them. “Semipublic touching? Baby, how naughty of you.”

Mickey snorted but moved back. “Stay here.” He pointed his finger and Ian’s chest and moved to shut the door but there was no lock. He looked around and grabbed a chair to prop up under the doorknob and hit the lights before walking back. Ian was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes were molten hot. “Better?”

Ian gripped his hips and pulled him forward until they both gasped at the contact. “I never said I was against public sex Mick. In fact…” he unbuttoned Mickey’s slacks enough to pull the ends of his shirt out. “If I was me again, I’d have no problem laying you out on one of these tables during breakfast.”

He could see it in his head. The room filled to the brim with fellow cops, all eating their coffee flavored breakfast. And there Ian was, charging at him like a sex crazed bull, scooping him up and laying him out on the table. Ian standing between his legs, stripping him of all his clothes, fucking him with those lusty looks. 

“Fuck Ian.” Mickey groaned as Ian pushed his hands up his shirt, nails scraping across his skin softly. “I think breakfast just became my new favorite meal.”

Ian smirked and let his fingers trail down Mickey’s stomach, stopping at his hips. “So, did you have a plan after you locked us in here?”

“I might have…” he mimicked Ian and pushed his hands under Ian’s borrowed shirt. Warm, soft skin felt like silk under his fingertips. “But I can’t think when you touch me.”

“So don’t think.” Ian licked over his bottom lip and loved how Mickey gasped. “Just feel it with me.”

It took less than half a second to make up his mind. One hand slipped out of Ian’s shirt and up around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. Ian groaned into his mouth, twirling his tongue inside to play with his. Mickey ignored that throb in his chest and moved his other hand down to pop the button on Ian’s jeans. 

“Baby, please.” Ian pushed his hips forward.

“Please what?” Mickey whisperer against his lips. The hand still under his shirt moved down to play with the band of his boxers. One finger tucked under the band, moving slowly from him to hip and Ian was losing it. 

Both of Ian’s hand pushed into his slacks and around to grab his boxer covered ass and Mickey fucking whined. Ian’s hands were big enough to grab his entire ass and squeeze, bringing him close until Mickey could feel how hard he was.

“Touch me.” Ian begged and kissed him again, nibbling on his lip. “Fuck, I need you to touch me.”

Mickey let his lips do the talking and slid Ian’s jeans down to rest below his ass. He grabbed it and squeezed, just like Ian had and he whimpered against him. “Like that?”

Ian nodded and slipped his hands down the back of Mickey’s boxers. “God, your ass is so fuckin perfect.”

He was losing it. Slowly moving closer and closer to that edge of no return. Ian’s fingers were so close to where he needed them. But this was about making Ian lose it and he needed to step up his game. 

“All of you is perfect Ian.” Mickey kissed over his jaw, then up to his ear and Ian trembled when he licked across it. “And I can’t wait to see you come.” He finally slipped his hand down the front of Ian’s boxers, sliding along hot skin until he could feel his dick. Hard and wet and ready. Mickey wrapped his hand around it and squeezed.

“Oh fuck…” Ian sagged back against the wall. Eyes fluttering close and he fought tooth and nail not to bust. “Baby…”

The first stroke had Ian moaning so loud it echoed and he was fucking grateful no one could hear Ian like this. Fuck, Ian was big. He managed to catch a glimpse in the shower but didn’t look too closely or his heart would have given out. But now, Ian took up his entire hand, pulsing under him, leaking with every stroke across his head. 

“I love the way you sound.” Mickey breathed into his ear, pushing his own hips forward and Ian squeezed his ass again. “So big Ian, so fucking thick and wet for me.”

“B—but baby, our hear—“

“Shh, don’t worry about our heart. Worry about my hand.” He squeezed and Ian bucked into his fist. He was so fucking good, perfect and unbelievably sexy. He moved back to look into Ian’s eyes, he wanted to see his face for the next part. Ian’s eyes were wide and glossy but focused. “God, this dick Ian…” he growled. “I can’t wait to sit on it.”

Green eyes widened and Ian started to whimper. “M' gonna come Mick…fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Give it to me Ian…” Mickey was so fucking hard he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to come, but he wanted to see Ian more. Mickey moved his thumb to swipe repeatedly over the head and Ian melted. “Come for me.”

“Oh my God!!” Ian threw his head back and did as Mickey commanded, he came hard and fast and so fucking good. 

“So good Ian,” Mickey slowed his hand while Ian rode out the aftershocks before he pulled his dripping hand away. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Ian blushed at how slick Mickey’s hand was. Dripping onto the floor. He slightly felt bad for whoever had to clean up. “God damn.”

Mickey waited until Ian looked at him before he brought his messy hand up to his mouth and licked his fingers slowly. God, Ian tasted good. Thick and sweet and so Ian. Green eyes were wide as his mouth hung open, shocked. 

“Baby…” Ian licked his lips, unable to look away. 

Mickey didn’t have an issue swallowing, he just never did because they were always hook ups and one night stands. But this was Ian. His Ian and there was no way he was passing it up. Even if it made him achy and needy.

“You taste goo—” Mickey was cut off when Ian gripped him behind the neck and slipped his tongue into his mouth. He groaned and let Ian taste himself, swirling the taste between them like it was the most natural thing in the world and Ian fucking loved it. 

They broke apart, panting, needy. Or Mickey was. Ian seemed to be glowing, grinning. “You good?”

Ian laughed, totally sated. “Fuck yeah, God damn that was sexy.”

Mickey laughed. “Which part, jerkin you off or swallowing you down?” 

Ian swayed on his feet. “Are you trying to make me come again?”

His eyebrows rose up to his hair. “I might be. You ready to go again?”

Ian wanted his turn. He grabbed Mickey by his wrists and turned quick, so he was against the wall. “No baby,” Ian licked his lips as he eyed his groin. “Now it’s my turn.”

Mickey groaned and barely had time to swallow before Ian dropped to his knees and gripped his slacks on the way down, pulling them down his legs. “Fuck Ian.” He felt dizzy, drunk. Drunk on Ian and the way his big hands moved slowly up his legs, then his thighs, digging his nails in. “What are you doing?”

Ian chuckled and leaned forward to rub his cheek against Mickey’s dick, groaning when the material darkened as he leaked. Ian looked up and nearly came from the look on his face. “I’m going to finish what I started.”

Mickey closed his eyes and tried to keep it together. It was nearly too much. It felt too good and he hadn’t even done anything yet. But just seeing Ian on his knees like that was enough to make him come. 

“Mick, look at me.”

Ian’s voice was soft, but it held that authority that could make his legs shake. Mickey looked down and watched Ian rub his face against his dick. “Jesus fuck…”

“You’re gonna watch me, the entire time. Got it?” Ian tucked his fingers into his boxers and waited for the answer he wanted.

“Entire time,” he tried to laugh but it came out as a groan when Ian nuzzled him again. “S' not gonna take very long.” 

“Can you handle it?”

Mickey nodded because he knew what Ian meant. One of Ian’s hands moved to his heart and they could both feel it pounding hard. Blood pumping fast, boiling. But it didn’t skip this time. It held that steady pace without stuttering. That gave Ian his answer. 

“Don’t hold back baby, just feel it.” Ian whispered against his hips as he pulled Mickey’s boxers down to his ankles. 

“Please.” He begged and moaned as Ian gripped him softly and ran his cheekbone over the head. Then his jaw, then his lips were it left a wet trail. Before he could beg again, Ian opened his mouth and swallowed him down. 

His hands dropped down to fist Ian’s hair and he kept him still as he breathed deep. Trying not to come. He wanted to feel Ian all around him. When Ian hummed, Mickey wanted to close his eyes, but Ian’s words rang inside his head.

“You’re gonna watch me.”

“God damn…” he moaned and let Ian go and kept his hands closed into fists. The first bob of Ian’s head had him thrusting forward. “Shit, sorry.” Ian didn’t choke but it was rude to thrust like that without the go ahead. It just felt so fucking good. 

When Ian’s hands slipped to his ass and pulled him further down, Mickey’s resolve melted away and Ian nodded, giving him the go ahead. “Fuck.” He gripped both sides of Ian’s face, pulled his hips back and slowly pushed forward. Ian groaned and gripped his ass hard. “Oh God…” he moved again, slowly fucking into Ian’s perfect mouth. 

It was so fucking good. Better than any sex he’d ever had. Better than bending someone over and even better than taking a dick. The sole concentration all around him, with the perfect amount of suction, the way Ian’s tongue swirled all around him, moaning for his dick, was something he had never felt before.

Total and complete bliss.

“Ian…Ian…” Mickey chanted as he came closer and closer. Teetering on that edge of nothingness. The faster he moved, the more Ian moaned, louder, vibrating up until he could feel it in his lower back, urging him to go faster. 

Each snap of his hips, each time Ian’s throat squeezed around him, clenching tight, green eyes swimming in lust. “So close Ian,” Mickey groaned and pulled his hair with one hand while the other went to his throat to feel each pass of his dick. “Fuck, better move…” he thrusted harder, but Ian didn’t move. “Please Ian, if you’re gonna move...”

Ian growled around him and kept him close. His eyes watered and his jaw ached but Mickey was feeling so good because of it.

The moment Ian’s fingers pressed against his crack, he was done. “Holy fuck!” Mickey came hard, slamming into his mouth as he emptied himself and watched green eyes close as he kept swallowing him. “Shit…shit…” he slowly kept thrusting, pushing Ian’s messy hair back before Ian leaned back and his dick slipped out. 

Ian licked his lips slowly and helped him pull his boxers and slacks up. Mickey was panting hard as he pulled Ian up and sagged against him as they kissed. Once again, sharing what was left between them. Mickey had one hand over Ian’s heart and Ian had one over his and it beat like a caged animal. 

“Holy shit.” Mickey huffed when Ian broke the kiss. His lips were red and a little puffy and he ran his thumb over them as Ian grinned. “I hope I can walk outta here.”

“You and me both baby.” Ian kissed him slowly, but quickly. “You were fantastic.”

Mickey blushed, even with his cheeks flushed red already. “So were you. Hopefully now we can keep our shit together until we get back home.” 

Ian grinned and fixed his jeans while Mickey tucked his shirt back in. “I happen to think I was handling my urges just fine. It was you who locked us in here.”

Mickey lifted his eyebrows and moved the chair away from the door. “Yeah, only because you can’t keep your little ghost hands to yourself. Rubbin and kissin on me and shit.”

Ian smacked his ass as he opened the door. “Stop being so sexy then.”

Ian walked past him, and he just shook his head. The bullpen didn’t seem to notice the locked break room or the sounds of solo moaning that came from within. Thankfully. He was able to walk to his desk, legs weak, eyes tired as he moved. He and Ian did have some where to be.

It was time he paid Doctor Lishman that visit. 

**

Houses on the North Side were called mansions. Houses didn’t even qualify anymore. And if you said house instead of mansion, the residence seemed offended. Like they needed validation that they were rich. Fuckin assholes, the lot of them. 

Mickey and Ian stood awkwardly on the front porch, looking like weeds in a garden, totally out of place. “Must be nice to be a doctor.”

Ian snorted. “I bet it is. You know, I dated a doctor once.”

Mickey scuffed and knocked on the door a little too loudly. “Spare me the details Ian.”

Ian moved closer and kissed his neck. “Don’t be jealous, you’re the one I want.” 

Mickey shivered. He knew Ian wanted him. It had been obvious before it was official…officially unofficial? He didn’t know what they called themselves yet. Either way, they were together. “I know, but I can’t compete with a doctor.”

“You don’t have to compete with anyone. You’re better than these assholes.”

Mickey smirked and knocked again. After a while, he could hear movement and took out his badge as the door opened to reveal an older woman, pretty, blonde and a little tipsy.

“Yes?”

Mickey plastered a fake smile on his face and didn’t miss the way her eyes raked over him. Beside him, Ian huffed and crossed his arms. “Hello ma’am. I’m detective Milkovich, Chicago PD.”

“Oh my, what can I do to help Chicago’s finest?”

Ian fake gagged next to him, making awful barfing noises. Childish. But cute. “Yes you can. I need to speak to Mister Lishman. Is he here?”

Her face fell and she nodded. “Lloyd!!”

Mickey flinched as she yelled and was sure the entire North Side heard her. It took a few moments, but an older man came to the door, dressed in an expensive suit and he gave Mickey a look…that look. Beside him, Ian shifted closer and he looked a little freaked.

“Mick?”

Mickey hummed quietly, thankful the Lishman's seemed to be conversing. 

“That’s him.”

“Him who?” Mickey turned to look out at the street so he could hide his mouth as he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

“The doctor I was seeing, that’s him.”

Mickey turned around and at the same time they stopped talking and turned to him smiling. Ian moved closer and took ahold of his hand.

“Baby, that’s Ned.”

Ned. The married guy he had told Doctor Parker about. The one he was seeing….or fucking, according to what Ian told him. And Raines had found out about it. Mister Lishman and Ned were one and the same? 

“Detective?”

Mickey blinked out of his mind and cleared his throat. “Yes, I was wondering if I could have a word with you.” He glanced at the wife. “Privately perhaps.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary Detective. My wife and I have no secrets.” 

Mickey wanted to scuff, happy when Ian did. The fuck this guy didn’t have secrets. Other than he was a fag and got fucked up the ass by a younger guy. Who gave a fake name no doubt. 

“What’s this about?” 

Mickey glanced at the wife, then back at Lishman. “Ma’am, I am here concerning a man named Ian Gallagher.” Lishman stiffened and looked a little pale. Mouth opening and closing. His wife just looked confused.

“I don’t know who that is.” 

“Honey, maybe I should—”

Lishman was interrupted, probably from asking his wife to give them a moment, by a tall, skinny guy with dark brown hair that Mickey knew instantly.

“Dad, what’s—”

Mickey watched Steve’s eyes widen so far, they nearly fell to the floor. Dad? He said dad. Mickey looked to Ian, whose mouth was hanging open, green eyes wide and watery. 

“Oh, this is my son, Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Detective Milkovich from Chicago PD.” Lishman smiled brightly.

“I was fucking Steve's dad?” Ian felt sick.

Mickey, however, felt murderous. Steve…Jimmy had yet to speak. He just stood there in shock. Dressed like a douche bag. No wonder Archie couldn’t find anything on Steve. Steve was Jimmy Lishman. 

“Jimmy…” Mickey glared at him, clenching his jaw so hard it cracked. “I’ve been lookin for you.”


	12. When the Bough Breaks

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 12- When the Bough Breaks

Mickey stared at Steve…Jimmy, with so much hate, he was sure everyone including Ian could feel it, especially Ian. This is not what he expected coming here today. Two halves of the same twisted puzzle, coming together in the worst way. 

First of all Ned, Ian’s married side dick, was Doctor Lloyd Lishman, the same man that had been calling Ian during those late hours. Which now made sense. And Second, Steve, was Jimmy Lishman, pre-med son, rich ass North Side douche bag that had been the last person to see Ian alive. 

Ian was tense beside him, much like the other night after seeing Steve on the videos. Fear flashed over him, images of never seeing Ian again, of having him leave, was starting to make his chest hurt. Mickey put his right hand over his heart and tried to wait it out.

Four pairs of concerned eyes were trained on him because of it and he fuckin hated it. That look on Ian’s face, the one that caused this round of pain, shifted instantly into sorrow, regret. Ian moved up behind him, wrapped both of those long ass arms around him and laid his hands on top of his.

“I’m here baby. I’m not goin anywhere. But you gotta calm the hell down.” 

“Detective, are you okay?” Doctor Lishman asked. 

Mickey ignored them both and closed his eyes. He needed to focus, to block them out and listen to the beat of Ian’s heart, of their heart, pounding against his back. He wasn’t sure if Ian could feel the pain as he felt the pulsing sensations, but the longer Ian held him, the less it hurt.

“Good baby, that’s good.” Ian closed his eyes as tucked his face into Mickey’s neck, breathing in that comforting smell of Mickey, of home. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed the back of his ear. “I won’t run this time. I’m here.”

The absolute conviction in Ian’s voice was enough to convince his body that he was okay. That Ian wasn’t going to leave him. He opened his eyes to see the Lishman's still looking at him. 

“Just a heart thing…” he shook his head. “Nothin to worry about.”

“Mickey…” Steve…Jimmy stepped forward.

“Baby, do you know this man?” Mrs. Lishman asked her son.

Mickey cocked his head to the side. He was giving Steve…Jimmy, whoever the fuck he was, a chance to come clean. He knew why he lied. No way would Fiona understand this…North and South didn’t mix for a reason. Two opposite ends of life, better left apart. And his parents wouldn’t approve of Fiona or the rest of the Gallagher Clan. Facts of life were such a bitch.

“Uh, yeah I know him. He’s…friends with someone I know.” Jimmy stuttered, eyes wide as he looked at Mickey to back him up. 

“Well, that’s nice! Would you like to come in?” Mrs. Lishman smiled and pushed her husband back a little.

Ian snorted as the woman stumbled but smiled like it never happened. Oh yeah, he and Ian knew all about this shit. Thank you, Terry and Frank. Life lessons. Ian moved back enough for him to walk through the opened door, their hands locked together, and he shot a dead glare at Steve. 

“Nice place you have here.” Mickey mumbled and followed the tipsy woman down the hallway. He looked back and could see the doctor and Steve huddled together, voices low. 

“They have something to do with this Mick.”

Mickey nodded because Ian was right. Both of them. It felt a little like conspiracy but if the shoe fits…

“Oh thank you!! I’ve been trying to get a few things remodeled but Lloyd has been so busy lately.”

He didn’t give two fucks about shit like this. Small talk. She lead them into a seating area, and he took a seat in the largest chair, he avoided the couch. He didn’t want any of them to sit close enough to overlap Ian in any way, he didn’t want them anywhere near him. 

As soon as he sat down and leaned back, Ian sat directly on his lap, angled to one leg and leaned against his chest. Mickey tensed for just a moment because, fuck…Ian was on his lap. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t react like a 15 year old boy. 

Ian, the asshole he was, just chuckled and settled back against his chest. One arm looped around his neck, the other with a fist full of his shirt. Normal couple shit. Mickey turned to rest his lips against Ian’s arm quickly as Steve and Mr. Lishman joined them, looking positively guilty.

“So detective, you said something about a man named Ian Gallagher. Who is he?”

Mickey smiled politely at her, obviously she was kept in the dark, but shot a warning glance to them both, who shifted uncomfortably next to her. “Well, Mrs. Lishman, we found his body Sunday morning, and I am investigating his death.” Mickey refused to use words like dead, murdered, killed. It have him the damn chills.

“Oh, how awful. Honey, is that just awful?”

Mickey arched an eyebrow at Lishman.

“Yes dear, very tragic indeed.”

Ian scuffed and Mickey let his hand brush against Ian’s thigh quickly. “Oh, it is. It’s lead me in some disturbing directions lately.”

“Well, how can we help you?” Mrs. Lishman smiled as she finished her drink.

“I was hoping your son and your husband could. Their names have come up a time or two and it is very concerning.”

She was wide eyed as she looked at them, then back to the detective. “What does that mean?”

Mickey was about to lay it all out for her. The doctor insisted they have no secrets and allowed her to sit with them, knowing what he might bring up. It was his own fault. Which is why he stood up and smiled at his wife.

“Dear, could you make this nice detective some coffee? He’s working so hard and it was very cold outside.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Condescending bastard. 

“Oh, how rude of me. Of course.” She stood and left the room, mumbling to herself.

The moment they were alone, the doctor decided to try and sway him.

“Now, detective…”

Mickey shook his head as he sat forward, making sure to grab Ian’s thigh when he tried to move, quietly telling him he shouldn’t. “No, you look here.” He glared at both of them. “As a curtesy to your lovely wife, I’ve decided not to put you both in cuffs and haul your lyin asses to jail.”

They both traded nervous looks.

“So, please do me the same courtesy by not lying to my fuckin face. Deal?”

They nodded, a little started.

“Get em baby.” Ian whispered into his ear.

Mickey felt his entire body thrum at the praise, Ian always did that to him. “Good. Now, I want some real fuckin answers before she comes back, and I won’t hesitate to hang you both out to dry.”

“What do you want to know?” Jimmy asked, positively nervous.

“Well, Jimmy, or is it Steve? Why don’t you explain that first.”

“Steve?” Mr. Lishman asked, looking at his son.

“I met someone…that woman I told you about.”

“Fiona? Ian’s sister, right?”

Mickey sat back, pulling Ian with him and watched the entire exchange.

“Yeah, I told her my name was Steve. I also didn’t tell her about any of this.” He motioned around. “Not you or where we live or anything like that.”

Mr. Lishman nodded, and Mickey wanted to pull his hair out. Conspiracy flushed through his mind again. 

“Yeah, I’ve been lookin for Jimmy here. Even Fiona won’t give him up which is fucked up if you ask me.” Mickey felt Ian flinch and hated it, but he was baiting Jimmy. He needed them to cut the stuck up North Side shit and show their true colors. “Choosing a liar over your brother…that’s some fucked up shit.”

“How dare you!” 

Mickey smirked. How cute. The dad sticking up for his son. Classic. “See? That’s what should have happened when I spoke to Fiona. She should have given him up and helped her brother. Instead, I have to dig through their entire fucking life to find you in it.”

“Just leave her alone. She didn’t have anything to do with this.” Jimmy snapped.

“That might have been true once. But the second you lied your way between her legs, the second she covered for you, when she chose not to help Ian or me, she had something to do with it.”

The room was silent for a second. Two pairs of eyes cast down in shame, unable to look at him. One pair trained on his face, such a loving look from a guy going through so much, looking at him like he was solely responsible for hanging the moon and the stars, for the warmth of the sun. That’s what Mickey cared about, and he would be ruthless until Ian was given the peace, the justice he deserved.

“Oh baby,” Ian tucked his face as close as he could. “I can’t even tell you how happy you make me.”

Mickey closed his eyes to fully absorb those words since he couldn’t say what he wanted, not yet. Ian’s arm tightened around him, the hand on his chest rubbing over his heart and the softest kiss was placed on his neck. 

This was what mattered. Ian. His happiness, his life…life after death, but still life. Ian deserved more than their lies, he deserved to be here, and Mickey only wanted to be able to feel like he deserved Ian. 

“She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t know about me or this house. Nothing. She’s not involved.”

“She is now Jimmy. So, before I go blow your big cover, to tell her who you really are, save me the trouble and tell me where you were Sunday night, around 4.”

“I was at a club. No big deal. I go out for drinks with a few friends from med school.”  


Liar. “Which bar?” 

“Any of them really. A drink is a drink, right?” He chuckled and looked away.

Okay, so they were playin this game. “And you, Mr. Lishman, or should I call you Ned?”

Mickey watched real shock contort Jimmy's face. There was no faking that. Jimmy hadn’t known about his dad fucking his girlfriends brother. 

“Ned?” Jimmy asked, eyes wide.

Mickey nodded. 

“It was you?” Jimmy stood, hands waving around in front of him. “You were fucking Ian?”

“I hate these two.”

Ian grumped and hid in his neck. So fucking cute. “Actually no, Jimmy. Your dad was not fucking Ian.” He watched that temporary relief wash over his skinny frame. “Your dad was the one to take it, so technically speaking, Ian fucked your dad.” Ian groaned. 

“I won’t sit around and listen to this!” Mr. Lishman stood and fixed his shirt.

Mickey just stared up at him. “Yes, the fuck you will doctor. Sit the fuck down or I'm gonna haul your cheatin ass in and explain all this shit to your wife.”

“Dad…”

Mister Lishman sat back down. Mickey nodded. “Good. So, tell me where you were Sunday around 4 AM.”

Neither one would meet his eyes. A confession of guilt if he ever saw one. But there were too many holes in this story. He needed clarification. Jimmy's tale about having drinks was true. He was at bar, a bar inside The Fairy Tale. And he couldn’t wait to hear what Mr. Lishman would spin.

“I was here of course. That’s an ungodly hour.” Mr. Lishman chuckled.

Mickey nodded. There was no use. They would lie until they were blue in the face. The door swung open and in walked the one person that might be able to help him. Jimmy stood to take the heavy tray and set it on the table as his mother sat back down.

“Tell me, Mrs. Lishman, was your husband home on Sunday, say around 4 AM?”

Mr. Lishman went to speak, to probably shush his wife, but she spoke up like it was no big deal, and it wasn’t. She had no idea what these two were up to. 

“I remember hearing the phone ring. Gosh, it was so loud.” 

Mickey smiled.

“He said there was a problem at work…and that he had to go.”

Mickey watched her husband take a deep breath. Until she spoke up again.

“But…”

“Is there something else Mrs. Lishman?” Mickey asked and glared at Jimmy and his dad. 

“Yes.” She frowned and looked at her husband. “You left but your medical bag was still here. Your clothes too. I didn’t think much of it until now.”

“Darling, I probably had a change at work.” 

There was doubt there. Doubt that he would exploit to his own use. It was fucked up, but that had to be Karma of lying to your wife. 

“How convenient indeed.” Mickey shook his head. “And Mr. Lishman, does your lovely wife know about your relationship to Ian Gallagher?” he lifted his eyebrows, daring him to butt in. 

“Honey, what is he talking about?” She asked her husband before looking back to the detective. “You haven’t even shown us a photo of this man.”

Mickey dug into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the picture he’d kept, the one from Ian’s file, the one of him smiling. Ian’s fingers came to rest on the edge of it and he looked up to see that same smile aimed at him.

“You keep this all the time?” Ian asked, stroking over one cheek with the backs of his knuckles. 

Mickey blushed and nodded subtly and handed over the picture.

Ian sighed deeply and bent down to kiss along his ear. “You are too sweet baby.” 

Mickey swallowed his groan and leaned into his mouth. The hand that was around Ian’s waist tightened, making Ian moan roughly into his ear. God, this kid was going to be the death of him. In a matter of seconds, Ian had him hard. Pushing roughly against his slacks.

“Well, I have never seen this boy before.”

Mickey made himself pay attention and took the photo back, sliding it into his pocket where it belonged. “I believe you ma’am, but I know your son knows who he is, he is dating Ian’s sister. And your husband…well, he…”

“Uh, detective….a word in private?”

Mickey nodded and waited for Ian to move, taking his spot and followed Mr. Lishman into the foyer. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Please, don’t say anything to her.”

“I won’t,” Mr. Lishman relaxed. “But it’s not for free. You gotta give me something here man or I am going to lay it out for her and haul you both off to jail.”

Mr. Lishman rubbed his face, then his neck. Looking positively guilty. How guilty was the thing Mickey needed to know.

“Yes, Ian and I…had an arrangement. We would meet up, have a nice dinner, drinks. Then he would accompany me back to my hotel for the night.”

Mickey swallowed repeatedly as he tried not to gag, or vomit. He did not need that image in his mind. “Any proof?”

“Just my credit card receipts. And the ones from the bar.”

Mickey nodded. “When?”

“We arranged to meet every Tuesday and Thursdays. I tell my wife I have meetings at work and Ian has those two days off.”

Gross. Fucking gross. He hated this guy.

“What do you know of Ian’s boyfriend?”

Mr. Lishman glared at the name. “Only that he was abusive towards Ian. When I first met Ian, he told me he has someone, as did I. For obvious reasons, I kept it a secret but somehow this man found out.”

“Did Ian tell you that?” Mickey asked and glanced at Ian who was listening intently to Jimmy and his mother speaking quietly.

“He did. That Thursday is when we met for the last time and he had a black eye and a cut on his cheekbone. I tried to get him to talk, to leave this man but he wouldn’t listen.”

It was hard to understand the reasoning behind why people stayed with their abusive counterparts. It wasn’t love that kept them, it was fear. But what fear could be worse, than living day to day, hour to hour, with someone who wants to hurt you? Most of those that stayed, ended up dead. 

“Your wife was pretty sure you didn’t go to work on Sunday night. If I call the hospital and ask, are they going to tell me the same?” He lifted his eyebrows when Mr. Lishman looked away. “No more games here. I need the truth.”

“No, I didn’t go to work.” He glanced back into the living room. “I had…have another arrangement, aside from Ian.”

Anger pushed past the aggravation of all the lies and hit dead center. “Someone else? What, your wife isn’t, Ian wasn’t enough for you?”

“It is and it was only sex, detective. Ian would only meet me two days a week. For a few hours. He didn’t even stay the whole night. That wasn’t enough for me.”

Mickey chuckled, not in a good way and it had Ian glancing at him. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You had Ian risking himself to meet you. Fuck, he took a black eye and a bruised cheek just to meet you and suddenly he isn’t good enough… Jesus Christ.”

“You won’t say anything, will you?”

Mickey just shook his head and walked away, back to the rest of them. The hushed talking stopped as soon as he entered and just one look at Jimmy, alive, was enough to break him. He pulled out his cuffs, grabbed him by the arm and hauled him off the couch.

“Jimmy Lishman, you are arrest for the murder of Ian Gallagher.” He linked one around his wrist, then twisted the other back to link them together. 

Ian stood, eyes wide at the sudden change. “Mick?”

Mickey looked at him and wanted to punch Mr. Lishman right in the face. Fuck, this entire thing was fucked beyond all reason.

“Mickey! What the fuck?”

“I have pictures of you with Ian, half an hour before he died.” Jimmy looked away. “Nothin to say?” he didn’t reply, just clenched his jaw. “Jimmy Lishman, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

Mickey walked them to the door, Ian followed closely, as did Jimmy's parents. He looked at Mr. Lishman, who had an arm around his wife, pretending to give a shit. “You better hope the shit we talked about checks out. If not, I’ll be back for you.” 

He walked a silent Jimmy to his car and tossed him into the back seat before leaning against the car and lighting a quick cigarette. Ian was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his body. 

“You okay?”

Ian nodded. “It just feels odd, ya know? Steve…or Jimmy, I guess, being the bad guy.”

Mickey nodded. “I know and I’m sorry. But after him hiding, after Fiona covering for him, I’m not giving him the chance to run again. I need to know what happened.”

Ian moved between his legs, arms wrapping around his body. “I know. I just don’t want…Fiona is gonna be so—”

Mickey silenced him with a quick kiss. “Ian, you can’t protect them from this. They were supposed to protect you. Don’t you see that?” Ian nodded, eyes a little shiny. “She brought it on herself when she lied for him, he did too by lying to her and to me. I can’t keep them from getting in trouble.”

“Mick,” Ian sniffed, burying his hands at the small of his back. “Please help her. Please.”

“Ian—”

“The kids Mick. The kids need her home.” He sniffed again, unable to blink the tears away quick enough. “She needs to stay home.”

Mickey sighed and pulled Ian down to lay against his shoulder. This kid was makin him soft. No two ways about it. Even when Fiona didn’t or wouldn’t help him, Ian still wanted to protect her. That’s how family worked. Or how it was supposed to. 

He sighed heavily and kissed Ian’s neck. “Okay…okay. I won’t arrest her, which I could by the way for obstructing a police investigation, but I won’t.”

Ian leaned back. “You won’t?”

“No, I won’t. But she won’t be immune from everything Ian. I can only let her get away with so much. You get that, right?”

Ian nodded and cupped his face. “I know. Thank you.” He leaned their heads together, rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks. “Thank you.”

Mickey nodded and leaned in for a soft kiss, one they both needed. Ian sighed against his lips and closed his eyes. “Come on, let’s get you outta the cold.”

**

After planting Jimmy's lyin ass in a cell until his expensive ass lawyer arrived, thank you Lloyd Lishman, he walked into the bullpen to see none other than Lip Gallagher waiting on him. 

“What’s my brother doing here?” Ian asked, trying to not be worried. 

Mickey shrugged. “Maybe he wants to help? It kinda seemed like he understood when we talked to your sister.”

Ian managed a smile and it was enough to satisfy him until he figured out why Lip was actually there. Mickey approached his desk and Lip noticed him and stood, unable to keep from fidgeting. 

“Hey man,” Mickey offered his hand, which Lip took with a smile. “Didn’t expect you here.”

Lip nodded, looking down. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that shit earlier. Fiona just—”

“Milkovich!!!”

Lip was cut off by the harsh sounding voice of his Captain. And Fuller did not sound like he was in the mood to dick around. “Let me handle this shit really quick, but just wait here, yeah?”

Lip nodded. “Sure man. I’ll be here.” 

Mickey nodded and noticed that Ian took a seat on his desk, staying close to his brother. With his own smile, he left Ian and walked into Fuller's office. It was only a matter of time before they had this talk and he was surprised it hadn’t happened before now.

“Hey Cap.”

Fuller shook his head. “Cut the shit kid. Please tell me what the fuck is goin on? Hmm? First, Amara takes a leave of absence out of the fucking blue, with no explanation and during a damn case, then you get sent to the damn hospital and leave against medical orders and don’t tell me about it?”

Amara took a leave? Since when? He knew the guy had been ghost for a few days, no pun intended, but he just suspected that Amara was doin other shit when he wasn’t there. But he left? Like quit?

“How long of an absence?”

Fuller scuffed. “Hell if I know. At least 3 weeks. He said maybe more. Somethin about getting divorced.”

His eyebrows rose high, actually shocked. A divorce? Now? Shit, maybe this had to do with Yev? It’s not like he had a chance to talk to him after that heart to heart with Amara. He was busy, workin a fucking murder for shit sake. Now this?

“The fuck? He didn’t say shit to me.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Somethin fishy has been goin on with the both of ya, and you need to tell me right now.”

“Look, it ain’t a big deal and that shit…it’s fine. We just needed a break.”

“No. That’s not gonna cut it this time. I let you pricks get away with too much shit. Now, you tell me or I’m going to bench your ass.”

Mickey stepped forward. “No, you can’t do that.” Fuck, this was not what he needed right now. If he was suspended, he wouldn’t be able to work on Ian’s case.

Fuller stood up, hands on his desk. “The fuck I can’t. You work for me Mickey, you do what I tell you, when I tell you. Now, I don’t ask for much, but you will tell me.”

This was quickly turning into a pissing match. If it didn’t have anything to do with Yev, he wouldn’t have such a problem. “Look, I can’t tell you. It’s fuckin personal. So drop it.”

“Fine, you’re off the case.”

Mickey lashed out, sweeping his hand over the desk to knock a bunch of shit to the floor. “No, the fuck I’m not!” he screamed and barely noticed when Ian came in. His heart was pounding, hurting. “You’re gonna have to lock my ass up before I fuckin walk away.”

“Baby, calm down.”

Mickey didn’t want to calm down. He wanted Fuller to shut the hell up about shit he didn’t understand.

“Tell me.”

“Go to hell!” Mickey lurched forward but someone grabbed him, and it wasn’t Ian. It was Lip. He had a firm grasp on his arm. 

“Tell me or get the fuck out!” Fuller yelled, unwilling to give up. 

He tired to move again but Ian grabbed his other arm. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His heart ached and he felt angry tears coming to the surface that just pissed him off more.

“You wanna know? Huh?” He growled and jerked away from Lip and Ian. “Fine, let me tell you. I’ll tell you how I nearly killed Amara for fuckin my son.”

Everything stopped. Fuller backed down, eyes wide and full of shock and guilt. Ian stayed close, a hand over his heart, trying to calm them both down. Lip had stepped aside, staring like he was watching a train wreck. 

Mickey scuffed. “Happy now? Huh? That bastard was fuckin my son and I told him I’d shoot his ass if I ever saw him again.”

“Jesus…Mick. I’m sorry—”

“Fuckin save it. You wanna help? Get off my back and let me do my fuckin job.” He pushed past Lip and Ian and the entire bullpen was looking at him like he was a nuke about to go off. Or the radiation that rained down after. Either way, he didn’t want to deal with it. None of it. He didn’t ask for this shit. 

“Shit.” He grumbled and took off towards the side door, eager to get those eyes off him and a smoke between his lips. He leaned against the brick building and did exactly that, only relaxing when the smoke filled his lungs and made him realize that all this wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not even Amara's. It just was and he needed to get it together.

The door opened and Ian stepped out. Mickey didn’t even think about why not, he simply grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close. Wrapping one arm around him, hugging him close to his body.

“You okay?” Ian asked quietly as he held him back.

“Yeah,” he sighed and finally relaxed as he felt Ian’s heart beating steadily against his chest. “I knew that shit was comin, but I was still pissed off it had to happen anyways.”

“He could have handled it better.”

Mickey smiled as he pulled back. Leave it to Ian to make Fuller the bad guy here. “The whole thing could have been handled better.” He offered Ian the last bit of the smoke and rubbed his hand over his face. “Shit. Well, it’s out there now.”

Ian nodded to the cigarette. “Shot gun?”

Mickey nodded and licked his lips as he watched Ian inhale as much as he could, flick the smoke away and grab his chin. Their lips nearly touched as Ian breathed the smoke into his mouth. Mickey held it until his lungs burned and blew it straight up. Ian was still very close to him, eyes trained on his lips.

“You’re trying to distract me.”

Ian smiled and ran a hand through the back of Mickey’s hair. “I am. Is it working?”

Mickey nodded and licked his lips. “It’s working a little too well.”

Ian moved closer, leaning down until their lips brushed together. “You need to go back in there and get back to work.”

Mickey nodded and his hands moved up Ian’s jacket, up the length of his back. “I really, really do.”

“How about a kiss good luck?” Ian traced his bottom lip with his thumb. “Just a little until I can touch you again?”

It was a bad fucking idea. It would distract him as it was meant to, but he did have work to do. Shit, he had Ian’s brother snooping at his desk and the only thing he wanted was for Ian to kiss him. 

Mickey nodded. “Just one.”

Ian grinned. “Sure baby, just one.”

Mickey was pulled into the kiss with Ian’s fingers under his chin, pulling it down just as he slid his tongue inside. He groaned, low and deep and kept it going. One kiss…yeah right. Mickey slid his hands down Ian’s jeans to pull the shirt loose and dig his nails into warm skin until Ian groaned against his mouth. 

“Baby…” Ian gasped when Mickey had his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Mickey released it and pushed their heads together. “Yeah?” 

“I want you.”

Mickey chuckled low and deep, totally satisfied. Having Ian want him was such a fucking rush. “What about work, hmm?”

Ian slid his hands down Mickey’s chest and started to work the button on his slacks. “You are working.” 

Mickey gave in for one second as he leaned his head back against the building and let Ian unbutton his slacks and slip his hand inside to rub against him. “Fuck…” he gasped and pushed his hips forward.

“God, that’s good baby.” Ian praised against his jaw. “You get worked up so easily…you need to relax.” He kept Mickey’s body shielded with his own, pausing to look down and watch his hand move up and down. “Gonna let me help you?”

It was wrong. No, it was never wrong to be with Ian. Never. But it might be bad timing. “Ian, as much as I want it—God!” he groaned as Ian’s thumb brushed over the wet tip. “Fuck, I want it.”

“Oh, I know. You are so wet for me.” Ian nipped his jaw and slipped his hand out to show slick fingers. “Always so wet for me.”

Mickey didn’t think before he acted. He turned his head and sucked on Ian’s thumb, tasting himself and it only made that need worse. Ian gasping and rolling his hips forward didn’t help. He pulled back, fumbling to come up with an explanation, when Ian slipped another finger into his mouth, then another, and another until all 5 were slick with spit and clear of any pre-come.

“You’re gonna make me come just from doing that.” Ian pulled his hand back and quickly fixed Mickey’s pants. “God damn.”

Mickey nodded, in full agreement. “Imagine how I feel.” He laughed and leaned up to let Ian taste. Just a quick slip of his tongue and Ian locked onto it, sucking it like he did other parts of him. His hand moved down Ian’s chest, to his groin to feel him hard also, busting to get out.

“Mick!” Ian whined as he pulled back.

“Trust me….I know.” He moved his hand and Ian moved back enough to let a gust of cold air blast between them. “After that good luck kiss, nothin should go wrong.”

Ian chuckled and slapped his ass as he went back inside. “Maybe what I give you later will give you infinite good luck.”

Mickey stopped in his tracks and Ian only winked as he walked past. “Motherfucker….” He snorted, trying and failing to will away his hard on. It was difficult enough to walk, Ian’s last comment wasn’t helping. 

Lip was still at his desk, the rest of the bullpen had gone back to work and worked extra hard to avoid looking at him for long periods of time. Fuller's office was shut, blinds down. Good. He didn’t wanna hash the rest of that shit out right now. He just wanted to work. He wanted answers.

“Hey man, sorry about that shit.”

Lip nodded. “No worries. Shit okay?”

Mickey shook his head as he took a seat. “No, not really but I’m handling it. So, whatcha doin here?”

“I’m not really sure but that shit at the house, it ain’t sittin well with me.” 

Mickey nodded because he knew what before he left the Gallagher house. It was all over Lip’s face, but he didn’t push it. He didn’t want to cause a rift between the siblings.

“Yeah, you and me both but I know where it’s comin from. It’s hard to imagine shit like this happening to any of us and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“I tried to call Steve. Just to see if he would come back to talk, the fucker didn’t answer though. Fiona has been tryin for 2 hours to call him. Guess he’s too good to talk to any of us.”

Mickey wasn’t sure if he should tell him or not, but one look from Ian, he knew he needed to. Ian wasn’t like Fiona. He wanted Lip to know the truth, even if it was painful. “Look, I got somethin to tell you about Steve. But don’t go rushing to tell Fiona because it just happened, and I haven’t told her yet.”

Lip sat up, shoulders back. “Okay, I won’t. She’s kinda on my shit list right now.”

Mickey nodded. Respect. “I looked through the Gallagher financials, tryin to see if Steve left any kind of paper trail.”

Lip clenched his jaw. “And?”

Right away, Mickey knew that made Lip nervous. As well it should. “If she would have told me where he was, I wouldn’t have had to poke around. The only thing I found was an income gap that has no explanation.”

“Any theories?”

Mickey nodded. “I already know. But if you want to tell me, keep shit clear between us, it’ll make all this shit easier.”

“You know I have a record, right? Driving a stolen vehicle?”

Mickey nodded. See? This was a start. He already knew this, but Lip was being honest, open and that’s what he needed.

“It was Steve okay? Fiona has too much shit to pay and doin things legit won’t work. She can’t bring in that kind of money.”

“Okay. And?”

“So, in walks Steve. Smooth talker, nice smile. About as far from South Side as you can get. But he’s got somethin….I can’t explain it but it’s there. He fronts Fiona the money and she doesn’t ask where it comes from.”

He looked at Ian, who confirmed with a nod. 

“Look, I don’t wanna bust her or Steve for shit like this. I get it man. I lived about 3 blocks down from you and I already know you know who my dad is.”

Lip nodded, cringing slightly.

“I’ve done worst shit then boost cars and get the cash needed to help a bunch of kids. That’s like sainthood compared to shit I had to do.”

“So, you knew?” Lip asked, slightly amused.

“Course I did. That’s my job. But none of that shit is on my radar. I have bigger things to worry about, like Ian and I’m not going to stop until I find out. And I have no problem takin everyone down with me to get them.”

Lip nodded, smiling. “I think he would have liked you.”

That caught him off guard. Like…it really did. It made him giddy that Lip would think so. Of course, he already knew Ian liked him, but this was different. Ian was smiling from his seat at the window, happy, wistful. 

“Thank you.” He finally replied in the sincerest voice he had. The one he used for mothers when he had to tell them their kids would never come back to them. Innocent, truthful. Real. 

“So, that fills in the blanks about the money. Other than his cell phone, I have no other way to get on contact with him.”

Mickey nodded. Time for more truth. “You remember how I told you that Ian was seeing some married guy named Ned?”

Lip nodded. 

“Well, Ned turned out to be a fake name, given to Ian by a Doctor Lloyd Lishman. That name mean anything to you?”

“No, should it?”

Mickey shrugged and dug through the Lishman file to find the photos from the DMV of the entire clan. “Well, I had a little chat with him and his wife, and his son. His name is Jimmy. Pre-med, looks like a douche and wears really tight pants.” He lifted his eyebrows.

Lip narrowed his. “I don’t understand.”

The photo of Jimmy was right on top and he handed it to Lip. “This is Jimmy Lishman.”

Lip studied the photo. Unable to see even if it was right in front of him. “Mickey, this is Steve.”

“That picture is from the DMV, that is Jimmy Lishman, who is also Steve.” 

Lip put the photo down and rubbed his face. “Why? Why would he give us a fake name? Why would he…just lie about everything?”

“Simple really, he knows his family would never approve of Fiona or anything she has, and he knows if she knew who he really was, she’d have never given him a chance.”

“This is so fucked up.”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, it is. The only reason I’m telling you this, is because about half an hour ago, I arrested him for Ian’s murder.”

Lip’s eyes widened. “He confessed?”

“No, nothing but lies. All of it. But he is my best suspect, the last one to see Ian alive and I won’t give him another chance to disappear. His family has the means and the connections to get him out.”

“So, you have Steve…uh, Jimmy and Raines in custody but we still don’t know who did it?”

“Yes. This is turning into a shit show fast. Raines ain’t goin nowhere. He just got convicted of burglary and assault on a police officer.” Mickey smiled and showed Lip the bruise on his cheek. “He’s lookin at some serious time and I bet, before it’s all finalized, he may have more information.”

Lip laughed. “Seriously? You let him clock you?”

Ian was chuckling too at the window. “Needed more shit to hold him, so I baited the fucker and he took it. Sooner rather than later, he’s gonna call me up and wanna make a deal for information.”

“And, would you?”

Mickey shrugged. “Depends on what he’s got. I’m only interested in a few things. Anything less than that won’t cut it.” And it wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to let Raines walk. No matter what, that guy was doin time. There was nothing he could do for the burglary charge, the only thing he could do, and only if Raines agreed to help, was to toss the assault charge. 

“I meant to ask, and it’s fine if you can’t tell me, but uh…what was Raines doin in Ian’s bathroom?”

Ian perked up at the question and it occurred to him that he hadn’t told Ian about it. That was before the stress attack and the other shit that it slipped his mind. Now, he wasn’t so sure how he was going to take it. Probably not well. 

“Yeah, I got the lab report on it. Good news, it wasn’t anything bad. Well, in a sense. No hard drugs. The pills were just sugar pills.”

Lip looked a little confused. “As in birth control sugar pills?”

“Not the same thing exactly, but yes. It has about zero effect on the body.” Ian crossed his arms and didn’t speak. Shit, this was not good. “The problem is, is that he switched it with Ian’s antipsychotic meds. Means he wasn’t takin them.”

Ian stared at him. “Seriously? That fucker….I, God…I was nearly manic because of fuckin sugar pills?”

Mickey nodded and subtly held out his hand. He did so in such a way that Lip didn’t question it. It was an offering to Ian, a sorry. A ‘please don’t leave' again type of deal. Thankfully, Ian moved closer and took his hand, linking their fingers as he moved to kneel beside the chair. 

The urge to pull Ian up off the floor and onto his lap was as strong as it was to punch Jimmy in the face. But for one, they weren’t alone. Two, it seemed like Ian wanted this. Ian’s head was now resting in his lap, eyes closed. Just trying anything he could to keep it together. 

“So, that explains why Ian was a little manic before….I mean, when we saw him.”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah. I still don’t know why Raines did it. Unless it was just to mess with him. But I’m going to find out and I know it will add another charge as soon as I prove it.”

Lip nodded and stayed quiet a moment to think. “As much as I hate that asshole, all this seems a little much, don’t you think? Like, all this shit is pointing to him.”

“You’re not wrong. I could charge him with all of it and any jury would convict. But we’d be wrong. He’s a damn scapegoat. Some shit doesn’t add up. But he isn’t off the hook.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“I don’t really know at the moment. Right now, I have to ask a shit load of questions and hope to God they give me the right answers.”

Mickey waited for Ian to get up, and he walked back to the windows. A blank look on his face. He stood when Lip did and turned away from Ian. “Thanks for comin today man. I know family shit is hard, you wanna take her side but help Ian and it’s rough.” Lip nodded. “Just remember, you, me, Fiona; we are all on the same side here.”

“Ian’s side.”

Mickey smiled and offered Lip his hand, he shook it and pulled him in for a hug. “Ian’s side. Just be there for her. I’m gonna have to tell her about Steve and I have a feeling she won’t believe me.”

Lip moved back. “Shit, I hardly believe it and I saw the damn picture.”

“As soon as I talk to him, I’ll stop by. You gonna be in town for awhile?”

Lip nodded. “I’m ahead so that helps. I told them and they'll try and work with me. Christmas holiday is comin up soon so I can try and get some work done here and send it back. I’m not leavin until this is over.”

Mickey could see Ian’s shoulders shaking. This is what Ian needed to hear from Fiona. That no matter what happened, she would be there. Just like Lip was doing. He left his life back in New York, to come home and take care of his little brother. 

“Good. I know I’m gonna need your help,” he paused to look at Ian. “And I know he does too.”

Lip smiled sadly and left. It wasn’t like before. It was better. They had an understanding. Neither of them would be happy until this was taken care of. It gave them a bond that went just as deep as family, as lovers, friends. 

Mickey moved towards the back window and knew Ian was crying. His face was pink, eyes watery. His arms wrapped tightly around his body, trying to shield him from everything. “Ian.”

Ian didn’t reply. He just gave him this look…that kicked puppy look. The orphan on tv look. Mickey did the only thing he could, the only thing that wouldn’t have false hope about catching whoever did this. He opened his arms and Ian all but fell into them. 

“I don’t know what to do Mick.” He sniffed and rubbed his head against Mickey’s shoulder. “At times I feel so happy, like with you and I feel like me again. But then shit like this gets in the way and…”

“Shhhh,” Mickey held him tighter. “I know Ian. Believe me, I know. But that’s normal okay? It doesn’t make you bad for being happy.”

“I just want to be me.”

God, just the waver in his voice was enough to make him want to cry. Why did shit have to happen to good people? What did Ian do to piss off the universe that it would turn on him? 

“You are you Ian. I don’t care if I have to remind you every hour, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Ian pulled back until their heads pressed together. “Oh, Mick,” Ian traced the lines of his face. “I think I love you.”

Before Mickey could do anything, the front door of the precinct came busting in and drew everyone’s attention. Ian moved to the side, his almost love confession put on pause as Yev came barreling through the door. 

Mickey’s eyes widened and he stepped forward. Yev looked awful. Face puffy from crying, eyes red and watery, his whole body shaking. “Yev, what happ—” he didn’t get to finish as Yev’s fist came flying into his face, knocking him back a step.

“It’s all your fault!” He screamed and tried to charge again but firm hands held him back.

Mickey wiped the blood off his lip, and shook his head more to Ian, who looked freaked out, then to anyone else. “What are you talking about?” he ignored the fact that his son had just punched him. He ignored the pain.

“He’s gone! He’s fucking gone and it’s because of you!” Yev screamed and yanked his arms to get free.

“The hell are you talking about? Who!” He screamed back.

“Nick!” Yev yelled. “He fucking left, he’s gone and it’s because of you.”

Mickey had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t matter the second Yev stopped fighting and fell to the floor. He risked getting clocked again and knelt down, trying to touch him. Yev pushed him off, yelling and cursing and crying but he didn’t back off. He grabbed Yev’s arms and spun him until his back was against his chest.

“Just breathe buddy, just breathe.”

“Fuck you!” Yev cried, jerking his arms to get away.

“Breathe…” Yev took a breath and it came out as a sob. “Tell me.”

“Nick is gone.” He hiccupped. “Told me we couldn’t—we shouldn’t. He doesn’t want me.”

Mickey held him tight. Fuck. This was bad. Yev was literally falling apart in front of him. He had no idea what Yev was talking about. Amara was on leave but not gone, getting a divorce or so he thought, to be with Yev…wasn’t he? But something must have happened that he didn’t know about.

“Yev…”

Yev fell back, unable to fight or yell over the tears and the shivers that wracked his body. “Why doesn’t he want me?”

Mickey watched Ian kneel down in front of Yev, trying to comfort him but he knew he couldn’t do much. Ian couldn’t touch. Ian reached out and took Yev’s hand, holding it like you would a child, and Yev’s hand curled around Ian’s. They were touching. 

Ian’s eyes were wide, freaked the hell out. As were his. He, they, didn’t know what happened. None of it. Ian was somehow touching Yev, and he could feel it. But Yev was so upset, he didn’t notice the ghostly hand in his own. He just cried and cried.

“Why doesn’t he want me?”


	13. Crash Course

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 13- Crash Course

Mickey gently laid Yev down on one of the many bunks in the Crib, the small barrack type area used for cops and officers that needed to get a quick nap between long shifts and whatnot. It looked like a row of beds in juvie. All neat and equally spaced apart, those too thin mattresses that felt like they were wrapped in plastic when you moved. It was less than ideal, but it would have to do until Svetlana called.

Yev was a fuckin mess. Utterly wrecked. Much like he had been when Ian ghosted him, literally and that shit ended up putting him in the hospital. He didn’t want that. Call it a stress attack all you want, but that shit was the technical term for a broken heart, no doubt about it. Like father like son, Yev had managed to find something real and have it yanked away. 

Mickey sat on the edge of the bed and brushed Yev’s blonde hair out of his face. He couldn’t help but notice how young he looked in this moment. His face relaxed, soft, sweet. But far from perfect. Where there used to be smile lines, there were frown lines. Under his eyes were dark black pits, dark and angry. Angry at him and it made 16 look like 35. Like him.

Warm hands grabbed both of his shoulders from behind, squeezing tightly. Mickey relaxed back, head pulsing from that expertly given punch. He taught Yev well. “You okay?”

Ian’s voice was as soft as it always was. Calming. “No, I don’t think I am.” He replied just as softly a moment later. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“We have to fix this.” 

Mickey turned to look up at him. Ian seemed just as effected by this as he was, aside from the bruising cheekbone. And he said ‘we' like Yev was their son, his and Ian’s and that made something warm blossom in his heart. 

“How? I don’t even approve Ian. I can’t just snap my fingers and change it.”

“Tell me,” Ian squeezed his neck, “if I were alive when we met, knowing my age, would you have done anything?”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. He knew what Ian was doing. He didn’t know if it would help or change his mind on this, but he was trying. “That’s different.”

“How?”

His voice wasn’t angry, just generally interested in his reasoning. “It just is. For one, 22 is legal. I won’t get busted for pervin on someone half my age. For two, this is my kid Ian. One of 3 people I actually give a fuck about.”

“And what about his happiness Mick? I know you only want what’s best for him, the very best. But are you keeping him from it?”

Mickey stood, knocking Ian’s hands off. He couldn’t sit for this. It already had him crawling out of his skin. He ran a hand through his hair and pulled, hoping the pain would shock him enough to think straight. Pacing helped, Ian watching him like a hawk helped.

“Yes, I want him to be happy. But you ever hear of tough love? Making the hard decisions to better your child’s future is called parenting.” He took a deep breath. He was slightly yelling at Ian. Fuck. “Nick left because he knows that.”

“I don’t wanna fight about this Mick. And maybe, considering my past dating history, I’m not the one to talk to about this, but look at him. He fuckin hit you. He feels like he isn’t good enough.”

Mickey’s heart stuttered. 

“Have you ever felt that before? You wanted something, someone so much, no matter the weird circumstances, that you’d do anything, be anyone, to be with them?”

Maybe Ian didn’t realize this when he started, but he was talking about them. Mickey just stared at him for a moment, feeling his eyes attempt to give him away. When Ian’s face fell, Mickey knew he got it. He understood.

“Baby…” 

Mickey just turned away from that soft voice. This shit with Yev and Amara just hit too close to home. Ian didn’t speak again, but as he knew they would, long arms held him from behind, burying his face into his neck. Mickey gave up that last ounce of control and let Ian support him.

“Baby, you know what to do. You’ve always known.” Ian tightened his arms and Mickey sighed because of it. “From the moment you knew it was real for them, you knew what to do.”

Mickey nodded. He’d always known. 

“He left Ian,” Mickey’s voice was thick with emotion. “Amara just left him? Why? How?”

Now, he didn’t realize until Ian squeezed him again, that he was talking about them…again. About when Ian left. Maybe not in the same sense of the word, but even temporarily, Ian left. Amara left. Both Milkovich boys, left by the people they love, people that were supposed to love them. It fucking hurt.

“Ian—”

“No, it’s okay. We can’t change it. But we can learn from it.”

Mickey turned around, his arms going behind Ian’s neck as he pulled him down to rest their heads together. “How? What the fuck am I supposed to do here Ian?”

“You gotta track his ass down and bring him back to Yev.” Ian smoothed over Mickey’s bruised cheek. “You don’t have to like it or see it, but they belong together.”

That’s what he was afraid of. “I can’t promise I won’t hit him.” He got a fist to the face that was meant for Amara and he was all about that payback. 

Ian smiled. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t clock him at least once.” Ian nuzzled their noises together. “Let’s get someone to take him home and we can figure out where Amara went.”

It was a plan. Simple and easy to remember. Even though Amara left all on his own, it still felt like his fault. It wasn’t. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t even sure there was a fault. You can’t control shit like this, like Yev and Nick, or the world bringing Ian to him. 

Mickey leaned up for a kiss and Ian happily gave him one. Slow and sweet and those words flashed through Mickey’s mind… “I think I love you”, he wasn’t likely to forget them any time soon, or ever. He pulled back and Ian moved to sit next to Yev, while he went to get someone to give him a ride home.

He stopped just before he got to the door and looked back to see Ian brushing Yev's hair back from his face, just like he had done. Like a parent would do and that’s when he knew for sure. Not just an inkling, no hints, not fate. But love. True, real, scary, painful love. 

“Ian,” Mickey called softly.

“Yeah?”

No hesitation as soon as those eyes landed on him. “I think I love you too.” Ian fuckin grinned at him, smile so wide it looked like his face would split in two. Ian didn’t need to say it again, it was there. It had always been there. 

Shit had returned to normal in the bullpen, that was evident when he stepped back into it and looked around for the one person, he could trust…aside from Amara. He saw her standing at her desk, a mountain of paper work in front of her and he hesitated. Too bad she noticed because nothing slipped past her.

“Hey Mickey, how’s Yev?”

Mickey smiled at her, one Olivia Benson, the woman with the biggest heart he’d ever known. “Not at the moment, no. Uh, relationship issues.”

From that look in her eyes, he knew she knew. He pretty much screamed it at the entire precinct. As being her perfect self, she decided not to comment on it or ask questions.

“Gotta be rough. 16 was awful.”

“Damn right it was.” For him it was nearly impossible but if he could get through it alive, so could Yev. “You mind doin me a favor if you’re not too busy?”

“Never to busy to help. What’s up?”

Sainthood. She was going for the gold. “I gotta take off and find someone, would you mind takin Yev home? His mom will just freak the fuck out.”

She snorted. “Sure thing Mick. Gimme 10 and I’ll be ready.”

“Thanks Liv, really.” He smiled backed up before he did something stupid like hug her. It didn’t matter if he was gay and she was a woman, she did not do the hugging thing. Not unless you were a victim or their families and he really didn’t want to limp away. 

She gave him one last smile as he turned away. Step one of breaking the damn law was in motion. Get someone to babysit Yev home, check. Now step 2 two was finding Amara. The fucker couldn’t, wouldn’t have gone far. You didn’t just up and leave the person you loved without stalling and trying to talk yourself out of it. Amara had to be in the city…somewhere.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the assholes number, not surprised when it rang once and went to voice mail. The phone wasn’t off, Nick was ignoring him. Childish. He hung up without leaving a message and quickly dialed Archie instead.

“Hello?”

“Hey man, it’s Mickey. I need a favor.”

“Yeah, sure. What?”

Mickey looked through the window to see Ian still sitting with Yev. He seemed to be talking or singing maybe and Yev was still asleep. It was fucking adorable. “Yeah, get me a trace on Amara's cell number. I can’t get ahold of him and some shit has come up.”

“Shit. Yeah, okay. It’ll take me about 10 minutes or so to track it.”

“That’s fine man. Can you send that shit to my GPS in the car? I gotta make sure my son gets home.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thanks man, I owe you.” Mickey ended the call and pushed his way back into the Crib. Ian looked up and walked up to him. “I got someone coming to drive him home.”

“Okay, good. And Amara?” Ian crossed his arms. 

“I got Archie puttin a trace on his phone. He’s gonna send it to my car GPS and we are gonna go get his stupid ass.

So, maybe he was conflicted like a motherfucker. He wanted Yev and Amara to stay away from each other, but he wanted Yev to be happy. Yev would only be happy with Amara. It was a catch 22. No way out, no way to win. It just was. He didn’t approve, he didn’t accept it, but he did understand. The only reason he understood, was standing in front of him. 

“This late?” Ian asked and looked outside to see a fresh round of slowly wind making its way in.

“Now or never. Any more time thinkin about this shit and I’ll change my damn mind.” He huffed and Ian only smiled. “I have no fucking idea what to say to him.”

“The same stuff you said to me.” 

If only it were that simple. If only anything about this was simple. “Kiss me.” Mickey nearly demanded and Ian smirked. “Gotta wake him up and get shit moving.”

“How charming.” Ian teased and leaned down to kiss him.

Mickey wanted more, so much more, but as always, he had shit to do, so he pulled away and sat beside Yev. “Yevy.”

Yev stirred a little, blindingly slowly.

Mickey was risking another punch sitting this close, but that never stopped him before. And by the way Yev was lookin at him, he was sorry. “Olivia is gonna take you home.”

Yev nodded and sat up, eyeing the nasty looking bruised he’d left. “Fuck…” he took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “I’m sorry.”

Mickey shrugged. “Don’t be. I’ve taken a hit for less.” 

Shit was awkward. More so now then it had been. 

“Home?” Yev asked and waited for his dad to move so he could sit up.

Mickey stood and nodded, grabbing his back pack. “Yeah, I got somethin to do real quick before I can come too.”

The door opened quietly, and Oliva poked her head in with a smile. “Hey Yevy, you with me?”

Yev smiled. “Yeah, coming.”

There was no hug, no goodbye. Nothing. Just Yev waking past him to get to the door and him letting Yev walk past. Nothing aside from a damn miracle would make this right again. 

“Thanks Liv.” Mickey leaned against the door as they left. “Fuck.”

Ian moved up to him, grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. “Come on baby, let’s go fix this.”

Mickey offered him a smile as they walked out. He stopped at his desk long enough to grab his gun and his bag and left the precinct without a word. As soon as they stepped outside, his arm went around Ian, pulling him close as the blistering cold wind blew over them.

“Fuck, it’s cold.”

Mickey led him to the car and didn’t think twice about opening the door. Ian seemed a little startled but only kissed him quickly as he stepped in. The shit people did when they were sprung on someone. 

He managed to get into the drivers seat after nearly slipping on a patch of ice, and started the car, turning the heat all the way up. He turned on his GPS and it had a little flashing red dot, about 30 miles outside of Chicago. 

“I knew it.” Mickey scuffed as he pulled out onto the mushy road and started their little road trip.

“You knew what?”

“Amara. His big dramatic exit that rewarded me a slug to the face. That shit never fails. You make this big choice, right, to leave or walk away but you can’t. Shit ain’t that cut and dry. He could have been 200 miles away from here.”

Ian smiled as he caught on. “But he stayed.”

“Yup. He needs to give himself that last chance to change his mind. If he is still there in the morning, he would leave.”

Mickey moved his hand to rest on Ian’s thigh, squeezing lightly until Ian’s hand landed on his and laced their fingers together. Okay, so many all this back and forth shit sucked. The case, the reason behind it. Moving from place to place, gathering information. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most romantic way to spend your time. But they were together, and they made time for the shit that counted. 

“It’s real.” Mickey mumbled and looked out at the mushy road. “What am I supposed to do about that?”

Ian sighed deeply, squeezing his hand. “I can’t tell you what to do Mick.”

“Yes, yes you can.” Mickey glanced over to see him smile. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say baby. I already told you what I think and about how I feel. But Yev is your son, you’re the one who has to deal with it all.”

“It matters to me Ian.” He didn’t want to make this decision. The one where is mind was already made up. The one that he regretted already. 

They didn’t say much after that. They didn’t need to. Both of them knew where they stood. Ian was all Team Yev, he made that clear. But Mickey was on the fence, literally teetering on both sides. Team Yev and Team Parent Responsibility. Both felt right but could he really have it both ways? Yes, Yev and Nick could wait til he was legal, but that was over a year away. Torture to be apart from someone you care about so long. He couldn’t be away from Ian that long. And Yev couldn’t either.

“Did you…” Mickey let the sentence die as he tried to figure out how to say it. “Um, earlier, with Yev…did you try and touch him?”

Ian looked over at him. “That’s an odd way to put it. But I know what you mean. And no, I didn’t focus and try to touch him. It just happened.”

Mickey nodded. “Then how?”

“I’m not sure. Normally, when I touch you, I don’t have to focus. It just happens with you.”

A small smile graced his lips. “And with Yev?”

“I’m not sure. I just felt bad about all of it, about the shit that happened and then it made me feel like shit because I left you—”

“Ian…”

“No Mick, I left, and it fucked our shit up.”

Ian’s voice was equal parts pain and defense. He felt bad about breaking that bond, even if they found it again quickly, it would have been stronger now, not weaker.

“Now Yev's goin through it with Amara. It’s a little different then us but not really and when I reached out to try and comfort him, and we just connected.”

He knew Ian didn’t intentionally mean to touch him, but it happened and they both had no idea what it meant. Did that mean Ian could touch and talk to Yev too? Or was it just a onetime thing because Yev had been so vulnerable? 

“I wonder if this means he can see you too.” Mickey smiled as he looked over at Ian. He would love for his son to meet Ian…or meet Ian again, like this. To see how he was, to know that he was okay and happy. “I would like that.”

Ian sat up in the seat instead of slouching. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Ian sounded like he didn’t believe him. “You don’t want that?”

“No, no I do.” He spoke quickly. “It would be amazing to actually meet Yev and be able to talk all this shit out. I guess maybe I kinda liked the idea that only you can see me.”

That made his smile bloom into a grin and he raised their hands to kiss the back of Ian’s. “I kinda like that too.” Ian smiled. “And we don’t know one way or another. I guess it just made me think.”

“About what?”

“Insane shit really.” He shook his head, trying not to get over excited about shit that wasn’t possible. 

“Please tell me? I wanna know.” Ian turned in the seat, looking at Mickey’s weary face.

He sighed. “I don’t know, maybe that if Yev could see you, then maybe other people could. Maybe your family and it would kinda be like…”

Ian smiled. “It would be like I was alive?”

Mickey nodded as his smile slipped. It was too much to hope for and he knew better. He knew that hopes too high, only fell further, fell higher when reality came back. It was brutal and unforgiving and there was no way he would do that where Ian was concerned.

“Baby, it’s okay to want that. Hell, I really want that. Probably more than anyone.”

“It’s okay up to a certain point. I learned the hard way that getting your hopes up is useless and painful.”

“Mick, what’s the point of life, of living and loving, of family, if there is no hope?”

Mickey pulled into the parking lot of the cheap motel, where the blinking Red Amara light was, and turned towards Ian. Was he right? Did there need to be hope in order for you to live, or to be alive? 

Ian reached over and cupped his face softly, but with enough strength to make him pay attention. 

“You have to hope Mickey.” Ian smoothed over his face, finally seeing how tired he was. “Yev hopes Amara will come back to him. Amara hopes that he understands why he had to leave, and he hopes that one day you will forgive him.”

This all made sense. Every word. And that’s what made all this shit so hard. “What do you hope for Ian?”

“I used to hope for everything. I hoped I was good enough, even with my disorder. I hoped my family would be okay. I hoped that Zeppelin would stop his shit and actually care about me.”

Mickey could see the tears in his eyes, but Ian refused to let them fall. Not for Raines. “And now?”

Ian leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “Now? Now I just hope I’ll get to stay with you.”

Ian let the tears fall. Ian let them fall for him, for them. For love. Mickey couldn’t even try to stop his. Ian brought out the soft side of him, the human side. The side that doesn’t need to hold the world together. 

“That’s all I want now Mick. I don’t care if this case is solved, I’m actually hoping it doesn’t because I’m afraid of what that means. I don’t care if you get justice for me, or if whoever did this goes to jail.”

“Why?” he asked as his voice cracked.

“It won’t change anything for me Mick. It won’t magically bring me back and make my family whole again.” Ian took a deep breath, still smiling despite the tears. “I just want to be here, with you. I want you to be happy, I want us to be happy, together. “

Mickey wiped his face before bringing him closer. “I want that too Ian. I want that more than anything.”

They met for the kiss at the same time, crying and smiling and taking in what those words meant. There was no ‘I think' to when they said I love you. They didn’t need to think about it or to question it. They didn’t need to justify it to anyone. It just was.

They pulled apart and shared that awkward, happy laugh. Wiping the tears away and fighting the urge to kiss the smiles off their faces. They were okay. That bond, their bond was strong, thriving, thrumming. They were happy.

Mickey looked up at the no tell motel. It had probably seen better days, better years. But Amara's car was parked in front of a door on the first level, and there was a light on inside. That had to be him. 

“Maybe you should leave your gun.” Ian suggested.

Mickey scuffed. “I didn’t come all this way to shoot him.”

Ian quirked an eyebrow. “No?” Mickey shook his head. “I seem to remember you saying you wouldn’t kill him in a room full of cops…well, no cops. And you said they’d never find him. Well, we are in the middle on no where.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was right. And this motel would be the best place to kill someone. Pull a little Bate's Motel shit and hide the body in the shower for clean up. 

“Look, I’m not gonna kill him. But have you seen this place?” he paused while Ian looked around. Just from a two second look, he could see a few drug deals goin down, a hooker leaving a room with a little gimp in her giddyup, not to mention all the shady corners. “Not gonna leave my gun.”

Ian nodded with a scowl. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just go. And don’t shoot him.”

Mickey winked at Ian as he got out and saw the returning smile as they moved over wet, mushy ground to get to the door. The only thing he hoped for at this moment, is that after this was all over, he didn’t go to jail for murder. One hope at a time for one step at a time.

“You gonna knock or just scowl at him from behind the door?”

Mickey turned and flipped him off, so close it was touching Ian’s nose and the only thing that asshole did was kiss his knuckle. Typical cute Ian shit. It made him want to glare and scowl as he kissed him. 

“I’m gonna knock, I’m just trying not to shoot him in the face right after.”

Ian snorted and reached forward to knock loudly.

“Damn it Ian!” He whined and took a deeper breath as Amara’s sounding voice came closer. “You’re just team Yev cuz Nick is hot.”

Ian grinned. “Damn right. Now, play nice.”

Mickey winked, but it was hardly anything but maniacal. “I always play nice.”

All talking ended as the door was unlocked and Amara appeared before them looking like a damn zombie. Hair a mess, probably hadn’t been washed in days, eyes red, blood shot with dark circles under them, his normal smooth face was rough with 5 o’clock shadow and his clothes were less than immaculate like always. He was a God damn mess.

“I said no towels!!”

Mickey smirked and Ian giggled next to him. “Go get your own damn towels.” Brown eyes snapped up, surprised and a little afraid as he back peddled into the room, eyes wide. “What, no tip?” Mickey teased as he walked into the room, waited until Ian cleared the door way and closed it.

“Mick, how did you find me?” 

Mickey shrugged. “Well, I am a detective after all.”

“Archie.” Amara scuffed and leaned against the table. “You trackin my every move now?”

“I might be. You okay?” Amara rolled his eyes because obviously he wasn’t but nodded. “You sure?”

“M'fine Mickey.” He stretched his arms out. “See? Peachy keen.”

By this time, Mickey was close enough for it to be uncomfortable. “Good, I wanted to make sure.”

“Make sure for wha—”

Mickey pulled back his arm and swung with the force that only good old fashioned exercise will give you and popped Amara smack in the face. He stumbled back, eyes wide with blood trickling from his nose. Mickey smiled and shook off the pain.

“Baby, what the fuck!?” Ian knelt down to Amara and tried to help but his arm passed through. Ian groaned and kicked at the table, his foot went right through it. “Nice talk.”

Amara righted himself, glaring at him. “The Fuck Mick? You ask if I’m okay to hit me? What, twice wasn’t enough?”

Mickey shook his head. “No Nicky, twice…make that three times, was not enough. The first two were for me, straight up and you deserved more.”

Amara nodded. “And that one? You just get a hair up your ass, track me down and pop me again?”

“No man, that one, was the one you were supposed to get, from Yev.”

Amara's head snapped up, eyes wide and more than a little fearful but what he saw was pain. Straight up, no Band-Aid will fix it pain. The pain of losing someone. Of losing Yev. 

“Yeah, he came to me, at work by the way, and decided I deserved that punch for your pussy ass leaving him.”

“Is he okay?” Amara's voice cracked and he couldn’t clear it away. 

Ian pegged him with a look. The one that said, ‘be nice'. Mickey took a deep breath and backed off before his other fist gathered that desired momentum. “The fuck you think? Hmm, you think just skippin town and leavin him like that was the way to fix this shit? The way to make it better?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Amara yelled. “For me to just slip into a hole and disappear, to be as far away from him as possible?”

Well, he couldn’t argue about that. That is what he wanted, he wanted as much space between them as possible. But it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change their feelings towards each other. 

Mickey ran a hand over his face. Trying to word it right. Trying to accept the unacceptable. That Nick loved Yev, that Yev loved Nick. 

“Yes, that is what I wanted Nicky. Of course, that’s what I wanted. I wanted you a million miles away from my son.” He took a deep breath and got a smile from Ian. “But that’s not going to work. Leaving and putting this entire thing behind you, behind us, is not going to work.”

“What?” 

Mickey groaned. “You heard me asshole. This shit won’t work. He is a fucking mess, and this is on you.”

Amara started pacing. “You can’t blame shit on me Mick. Not on me or Yev or you! Shit like this can’t be controlled.”

Mickey nodded and stood. “I know. So, pack your shit. I’m takin you back.”

“Back? Home? No, I already made that clear to Nina. I’m done with that life Mick. I’ll be there for my girls but I, we, can’t fake happiness anymore.”

“I know and I don’t want you to. I ain’t takin you home.”

“Then where are you takin me?”

Mickey just stared at him, willing Amara just to understand so he didn’t have to repeat himself. It already put a bad taste in his mouth. “Just…get your shit. I’ll be outside.”

He left Amara just standing there. In shock no less, waited for Ian to exit and shut the door. Ian was on him instantly, wrapping around his body like the octopus he was. Mickey smiled and hugged him back, using his positivity and hope to get past the urge to kill Amara.

“Thank you.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding since they left the car. Ian’s approval, that was all that really mattered at this moment. He would deal with the rest of the shit that came later. “You’re makin me soft.”

Ian chuckled happily and pulled back. “Good, you need a softer side.”

Mickey scuffed. “I have a soft side for certain things.”

Ian folded his arms across his chest. “Oh yeah, like what?”

“Like…The Cubbies and barbeque Pringles, and Yev…and maybe a certain red head.”

Ian grinned. “I need to work my way up this list.” He purred as his hands slid up Mickey’s sides. 

“Hmm, I can think of a few ways.” Mickey grumbled back, trying to keep his shit together. As always, this was not the time for this, but he wanted it. He needed it. Ian moved away as the door opened and Amara poked his head out, jacket on and his bag zipped in his other hand. “You good?”

Amara nodded. “One car?”

Mickey snorted. No way was he gonna tell Amara to take a beat and sit in the back so his dead, invisible…boyfriend? Could ride in front. “Two and follow me.” He walked away without a reply and immediately started the car and pulled onto the road.

“Didn’t wanna tell him why he had to sit in the back?”

Mickey shook his head. “Nope.” He could see Ian smiling next to him. “Just shut up.”

Ian leaned back, grabbed Mickey’s hand and kissed it. “Anything you say baby.”

**

The car ride home took the same amount of time, but it seemed quicker. He spent the entire time trying to figure this shit out, what to say and how to react. How Yev and Amara would react, but he always came up blank and mad. Which did not help. 

He pulled the car into his spot and they got out, a few seconds later Amara joined them…joined him, no bag in his hand. “Look, I haven’t decided what I plan to do yet, so just fuckin follow my lead, yeah?”

Amara nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. “Anything you say Mick.”

Mickey waited for Ian to get a head start before following after him, Amara practically up his ass. The lights inside were on and Benson's car was long gone. Yev was alone. Good. 

It took him longer to unlock the door then he imagined it would. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. He nearly broke the key twice before Ian’s steady hands helped him unlock it and push it open. The living room was dark, the kitchen too. Mickey turned on a lamp and let Amara step inside. 

Amara seemed nervous as well, but giddy. “Just wait in the kitchen yeah? I gotta get a read on him first.” Amara simply nodded and stepped into the kitchen, removing his wet jacket. “Here goes nothing.”

“You got this shit Mick. Just be real with him. Be honest.”

Mickey smiled at Ian before he walked down the hallway and knocked lightly on Yev's door. 

“Go away.”

Mickey sighed. “I need to talk to you.”

Yev scuffed. “I believe I said all I needed to earlier.”

Mickey let his head fall against the door way as he took a deep breath. “I’m only knocking as a damn curtesy, don’t make me come in.”

“Fuckin fine.”

Mickey moved away from the door and down the hall before Yev could even open his door and that little jerk cussed the entire time. He glanced at Amara and held up a finger, he got a nod in return.

“What?” Yev grumbled as he walked shirtless into the living room.

Mickey flinched. Yev just had to be shirtless for this. Great. Wonderful. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He took a step back, just as Amara stepped forward and everything changed. 

Yev's face morphed into a thing of beauty, as did Amara's. 

“Nick?” Yev asked in a watery, yet happy tone.

“I’m here baby…”

Mickey cringed. That’s what Ian said to him.

“And I’m so sorry.” Amara finished, arms held wide open.

Ian braced him from behind just as Yev ran to Amara, his arms going around his neck, Amara’s going around Yev's waist as they kissed. Mickey let Ian hold him tight and watched them as they kissed like their lives depended on it.

“Calm down baby.” Ian kissed his neck. “I can feel that sting.”

Ian was right. His heart hurt. It pulsed and pounded, it stuttered and carried that pain through every vein, every blood vessel. It fucking hurt. 

“Just look.”

Mickey shook his head. He did not want to watch.

“Mick, please?”

He sighed and opened his eyes, surprised to see them no longer kissing, but close together, heads touching, smiling and whispering lowly to each other. Yev had his hands on Amara's sides, Amara cupped his face like it was made of glass. Precious and irreplaceable. 

“That’s us baby.” Ian whispered and sighed deeply as he watched them.

Now that he saw it, that he really really saw it, it was hard to look away. Ian was right. It was like them. Exactly like them. As hard as it was to interrupt, Mickey cleared his throat and they broke apart, arms still brushing, hands linked together. 

“You brought him back?” Yev asked, voice low and no longer angry.

Mickey nodded. “I did.”

“Why?”

Mickey shook his head. “I don’t really know. But I did and here we are.”

Yev let go of Amara's hand and raced forward to hug him. He wrapped his arms around Yev and squeezed him tight, trying to say all the shit he didn’t want to or couldn’t say. 

“Thank you, dad.” 

Mickey nodded as Yev pulled back and moved to hug Amara again. “Look,” they broke apart, their smiles less bright then a second ago, “until Yev is 18, I do not approve.” He paused to let that sink in and it did. They looked distraught. “So, if you get caught, it’s your asses.”

They smiled again, thankful smiles. 

“Dad...”

Mickey held up his hand. “I’m not kidding Yev. If this shit goes bad, “ he turned to Amara, “if you hurt him, I will kill you Nicky. Don’t think I won’t.” Amara nodded. “And if you two get caught, do not come running to me. I will let his ass get tossed in jail for statutory rape.”

Eyes widened all around. Even Ian’s.

“Understand?” 

They both nodded, a little less happy but still happy as they turned and hugged...again. Mickey turned this time and headed back to his room. Without thinking too much, he packed a bag, made sure he had his extra gun and grabbed his bathroom stuff before joining them.

“Are you leaving?” Yev asked, voice worried.

“I’m gonna give you the night.” They looked at him. He clenched his teeth. “Alone.” Deep breath. “This is a one time thing, after this, if you two do this, I don’t want to see it, hear about it, nothing.”

“You won’t.” Yev promised all too quickly.

Ian snorted. “Eager little thing.”

Mickey wanted to throw his bag at him. He tried to focus all his energy into not getting mad or wanting to take Amara's head off. He had yet to say anything all this time. Maybe he was afraid to ruin a good thing. Never look a gift horse in the mouth type deal.

“When I come back tomorrow, you better be gone.” He looked directly at Amara, ignoring how Yev shifted uncomfortably beside him. When Amara nodded, Mickey turned and headed for the door.

“Mickey?”

Mickey stopped at Amara's voice, but he did not turn around. 

“Just...thank you.”

Mickey nodded again, waited until Ian moved past him, and left. He nearly ran down the steps and out to the car. Fuck…what did he just do? He pretty much gave them permission to fuck all over his house. 

“Jesus Christ.” He gasped and walked around, hands behind his head as he tried to breathe. The need to go up there and beat Amara to death was there. Strong and painful and so fucking easy. 

“Easy baby.” Ian spoke softly as he leaned against the cold car.

“Shit...shit…shit…” Mickey kept yapping, more to himself than Ian. “God, I really hate him right now.”

Ian didn’t try and argue. It wouldn’t matter. Mickey needed to get this out of his system. All he could do is stand there and make sure Mickey didn’t get too worked up.

“I just need to leave.” Mickey went to Ian’s door without thinking and opened it for him. Ian got in, pausing long enough to kiss his head. Mickey let go of some of that anger and got in, tossing his bag into the back.

“Anyplace you wanna go?” Ian sat back, arms wrapped around himself.

Mickey noticed immediately and turned the car on, blasting the heat. “I guess a hotel?” he asked without really asking. He honestly didn’t know. That shit, leaving them alone for the night hadn’t been planned. It wad a spur of the moment thing.

“Hotel sounds good. Figured you’d say back to work though.” Ian smiled.

Mickey huffed but smiled too. “It’s after midnight and it’s been one fuck of a day. I think it’s time to chill the fuck out before I freak out.” 

Ian nodded. “You did good baby. Really. Better than I thought.”

“I hardly said anything.”

Ian turned into the seat and took his hand. “Mick, you brought him back without being asked. That says a fuck load if you ask me. Not to mention you didn’t kill him, you pretty much just said it was okay as long as you didn’t have to see it.”

“Only thing I did was tell them I didn’t support shit until he was 18 and that if they got caught, I wasn’t going to help.”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, but you still allowed it. You gave them a chance Mick. That’s more than most people get.”

Did he do all that? Really? Cuz it really felt like he only drove an hour, hit his partner in the face, told them not to get caught, said he wouldn’t help if they did…and left. Did that add up to him giving them a chance? Fuck. Did he? He looked up at the apartment. They were probably having sex. Most likely. And they were together, they were happy… because of him.

“Fuck.” He deflated and turned away from the apartment. Ian was still smiling next to him. “This is your fault.” He grabbed Ian behind the neck and kissed him with everything he had. Which wasn’t much at the moment. Ian groaned against his mouth and Mickey quickly slipped his tongue in, swirling it around. He pulled away, breathless. “This is all your fault.”

This was a distraction. Plain and simple. He didn’t want to deal with Nick or Yev or anything else at the moment. He wanted to relax, escape. He wanted to feel. Ian made him feel. He wanted Ian.

Ian grinned. “Why?”

Mickey turned Ian’s face away with one hand on his jaw and slowly kissed up his neck. “Cuz you’re makin me soft.”

Ian snorted and slapped him on the chest. “That’s not something a guy wants to hear asshole.”

Mickey chuckled and drew Ian back to him and licked up the side of his neck. “Not like that Ian. You’re making me soft hearted.”

“Yeah?” Ian groaned and fisted Mickey’s hair.

“Mmm hmm, but you’re also makin me hard.” He groaned as he licked over his throat. “So fucking hard Ian.” He moved Ian’s hand to his groin and Ian gasped and gripped him.

“Fuck, you are hard for me.” Ian jerked his head out of Mickey’s grip to pull at his bottom lip.

Mickey groaned and moved one of his hands to grip Ian. “I think you’re harder.” 

“We should go to my place.” Ian groaned and kissed down his throat.

“What about the hotel?” He asked, eyes closed, head tilted back as Ian moved to his chest, pulling at his shirt to get to more skin.

“My place is closer. Please.”

Something happened to his body when Ian begged like that. It’s like he blew a fuse, or his brain started to short circuit. But Ian’s place was probably not a smart idea.

“Baby,” Ian begged again, moving one hand to flick the button on Mickey’s jeans. “I need to be in you, like right fucking now.”

Ian’s voice held that deep growl that made his legs weak and it left little room to argue. “Okay…” he gasped but Ian didn’t back off, he was trying to slip a hand down his pants. “Okay, okay…your place.” Ian grinned. “But if your hand goes any further, we won’t need a damn room.”

Ian chuckled and pulled back, slipping easily into his own seat. Mickey huffed out a laugh as well and rebuttoned his pants. “Jesus…” he looked over to see Ian popping the button on his own jeans and his eyes widened. “Ian…”

Ian’s hand slipped in to grip himself and had to pause as he took a breath. “Better drive fast.”

Mickey put the car in drive, just as Ian gave that low, deep moan. “Jesus Christ.”


	14. Our Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT Galore!
> 
> Extra long chapter, twice the size of my normal...because Ive fallen a little behind...please forgive me and enjoy!!

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 14- Our Heart

Mickey was roughly pushed into the wall, his head snapping back as his bag dropped and he didn’t feel anything but Ian. From the moment they got out of the car, into Ian’s building and into his hallway, Ian had been on him. Kissing up his neck, nipping at his lips, pushing him up against every other wall.

He was insatiable. And Mickey loved every moment.

He pushed Ian off him and moved across the hall to the door but before he could grab the key, Ian slammed into his back, pushing him hard against the door. All the wind was knocked out of him, his dick was smashed against the door and he had a door knob in his gut, but fuck, it felt good.

“Ian!” Mickey whined and tried to push him back. Ian only suction cupped himself tighter, pressing deliciously into his ass.

“Somethin you need baby?” Ian teased and circled his hips, grounding hard into Mickey’s ass. “Fuck, your ass is soooo squishy!” He groaned.

Mickey huffed and elbowed him back, smirking when Ian cursed. “M'not squishy anywhere.”

Ian didn’t give up, he got right back into position and gripped Mickey’s hips hard. “Yes, you are. In the best ways.”

Mickey swallowed his groan and tried to push the key into the lock. It was a lot harder than it sounded. Ian was so heavy behind him, gripping his hips like a life line, but the front of his body had no room to move.

“Fuckin need you baby.” Ian groaned into his neck, nipping it quickly.

“M' fuckin trying!” He grouched back but didn’t make Ian move an inch back. He didn’t want any space between them. 

“Please Mick!” Ian bit his ear until he hissed. “Let me in.” he rocked his hips forward.

“Fuck…” Mickey trembled as he pushed his ass back to grind against Ian. It also gave him enough room to unlock the door and they nearly toppled inside. “Get in here!” he pulled Ian by his jacket, kicked the door closed and pushed Ian against it.

“God, so pushy.” Ian growled while he ran both hands down his back and gripped his ass. “My pushy little bottom.”

Mickey surged up to kiss him and worked on peeling his jacket off Ian’s back. Ian walked him backwards as they kissed, and he had no idea where he was going, but Ian led him easily. Next to go was Ian’s shirt, raking his nails against his skin as he lifted it up.

“Mick!” Ian groaned as the kiss broke and he reconnected it within seconds. Sliding his tongue in deep, swirling it all around his mouth.

Ian’s hands moved up to take his jacket off now, then long, nimble fingers smoothed up his body, brushing his nipples before moving back down to grab the hem and yank it off. The kiss broke and Mickey moved to the nearest place, kissing up and down his neck, scraping his teeth across it.

“God, it feels so good baby.” Ian moaned and backed them up until Mickey’s legs touched the bed. 

Mickey kissed lower, down past his collar bones, sucking a deep purplish hickey on the left side. Then down across his hard chest, moving to twirl his tongue around one hard nipple until Ian groaned.

“Mick.” He moaned and threaded his fingers through dark hair, leading him to the other one. 

He nipped and sucked at the other one while his hands moved down his body to settle on the band of his jeans. “We doin this?” Mickey paused as he looked up and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Ian nodded quickly, stepping up closer so Mickey had to grab him to keep from falling backwards. “We need to.”

Mickey kept his eyes as he kissed down his torso, first his ribs, on both sides, biting at his sides, then down to run his tongue over each bump of his abs. Ian groaned and pushed closer.

“Need to or want to?” Mickey asked as he licked up one side of his hips, biting hard until Ian pushed his hips forward.

Ian growled and quickly unbuttoned his jeans and jerked them apart. He had Mickey by the back of the next with one hand, the other he used to rub a finger over pink lips. “I fucking need it.”

Mickey groaned deeply and fought against the hold, just so Ian would squeeze tighter. “Fuck yes, we need to.” He moved to the other side and licked from his hip down to where the button had been, running his mouth along the band of his boxers. 

Mickey gripped two handfuls of jeans and pulled them down fast until Ian was standing in his boxers only. Ian was hard and pressed against the front and there would be no looking away this time. 

“You gonna let me have a taste now?” Mickey asked as he pulled the boxers down for Ian to kick off along with his jeans. Mickey all but groaned when Ian’s dick slapped back and caught him under the chin.

“Fuck…” Ian groaned and had to look away before he ended shit too early. “Think you can take it all?”

Mickey rubbed his jaw against him, groaning as the wet tip left a trail from the corner of his mouth, all the way to his ear. “Gonna find out.” Mickey gripped him at the base, shivering when Ian started to tremble.

Ian backed up quickly and Mickey nearly fell towards. At first, he thought he said something or did something wrong, but Ian’s face told a different story. He was panting, his large chest rising and falling rapidly, red hair a mess, green eyes as dark as they could possibly be.

Ian knew his voice would come out rough, but he never expected it to sound that rough. “You wanna taste baby?” he worked himself slowly, watching Mickey’s eyes widen.

Mickey licked his lips and nodded eagerly. 

“I want you on your knees.”

There was no room for discussion. None at all. And Fuck, his voice was deep. Demanding. Absolute. And it did something to his body. Mickey never moved so quick in his entire life. He slid off the bed, pushed Ian’s clothes aside and got on his knees. The wood bit into his skin, threatening to make to his knees ache if he stayed there too long and Mickey welcomed it. He would take each punishing ache and pain to make Ian feel good.

Ian smirked down at him and took a single step forward. Mickey had never seen Ian like this before. Not that he had much of a chance, but Ian always seemed shy, soft, sweet. This wasn’t that. This was more. Greedy. Demanding. In control. Mickey had to fight not to beg right away. He was almost certain there would be time for that later.

“You look so good like this Mick.” Ian ran a hand through Mickey’s hair, from the front to the back before he gripped it. “You like being on your knees for me?”

Mickey nodded and broke eye contact as he looked at Ian’s dick, so very close to his face. He breathed hotly and Ian gasped, nearly folding in half. “You wanna let me taste?”

Ian nodded and grabbed the base so he could slowly rub the wet tip over plump pink lips. Mickey’s tongue chased after it and he had to smile. “I love how much you want it.”

Mickey growled and gripped Ian’s thighs and pulled him closer. “Gimme what I want then.” 

Ian gripped his chin and pulled his mouth open and rubbed the head inside. “Deep breath.” He warned before he slid halfway in and felt Mickey’s mouth salivate. “Jesus fuck!”

Mickey groaned and used his tongue to slick up his shaft, making it easier to take once Ian pushed more inside. Fuck, he was big. Only half and his mouth was already full, and each time Ian pushed more in, his jaw let out a silent protest. 

He loved it.

Mickey groaned all around him, making it vibrate enough to have Ian’s legs shaking. He relaxed his jaw, opened his throat and fuckin welcomed each inch.

“If you could see what I see…” Ian groaned as his eyes rolled back. This was a bad idea to do while standing. He had nothing to brace himself against. 

Oh, but Mickey could see it. He saw how Ian bit his bottom lip, how green eyes rolled back into his head. He could feel how bad his legs shook and that need to thrust forward and chase that feeling was boiling under the surface. 

The moment Ian was all the way in, Mickey closed his eyes and tried not to gag. His throat was pulsing, trying to push Ian away but he held out. He let his throat convulse around him until Ian started to whimper.

“Move baby. Fuck, please move!” Ian begged and looked down to see dark blue eyes wide, wet and so hungry. “You take it so good.” 

Mickey pulled back, taking him nearly all the way out to catch his breath, before swallowing him down again. His mouth was full, over full. Each bob of his head was a fight for air and each time Ian flexed his hips forward, the need to breathe faded from his mind.

“Oh Mick…” Ian tipped his head back and pushed forward. Each time Mickey swallowed him, he would push his hips forward just to hear that sexy little grunt. “Just like that.”

Both of Ian’s hands cupped his face and moved him up and down, down so far, he couldn’t breathe and up for him to swirl his tongue into his slit before going right back down. His throat burned, his jaw ached and popped with each bob, but Ian was loving it.

“So fucking perfect.” Ian praised and released his grip. “Jaw hurt?”

Mickey nodded, swirling his tongue around him slowly. “Supposed to hurt.”

Ian smirked and wiped saliva off the corner of Mickey’s mouth. “Is that right?”

“Fuck yeah, otherwise, what’s the point?” he winked and popped the button on his slacks and stuffed his hand inside to grip himself. He groaned around Ian, who groaned right back. “I could come just from suckin you off.”

Ian gasped loudly and finally pushed Mickey off. He had been so close. Too close. “We’ll have to try that.”

Mickey smirked as he leaned back, trying to peel off his pants with one hand. Ian seemed to only want to watch for a second before long fingers peeled them and his boxers off, flinging them to the side.

He scooted back on the bed, one hand still slowly working up and down his length, the other stuffed a pillow behind him so he got a better view of Ian watching him. “You just gonna watch?”

Ian licked his lips. “I might.”

He enjoyed that hungry look on Ian’s face. No one had ever looked at him like that. Not to this extent. Not like he was the sexiest thing in the entire world. The only body of water in a dry desert. The only land around miles and miles of rocky ocean. Ian looked at him like he was everything.

“I’m going to take you apart…” Ian knelt on the bed, slowly crawling between his legs. “Inch by inch, kiss by kiss,” he kissed up the inside of Mickey’s knee.

Mickey gasped, face flashing hotly as he watched Ian look at all of him. 

Mickey’s legs were a work of art. No ifs, ands or buts. Strong calves, juicy, luscious thighs, split wide enough to get a glimpse at his hole. Buried between the sexiest ass he’d ever seen. Ian started at his ankles and lightly trailed his fingers up.

“I’m going to kiss, lick and bite each inch of your skin.” Is bent down and nipped as his other knee.

Mickey arched his back, pulling his hands off his cock to grip both sides of the bed. “Oh, God Ian.” He begged and spread his legs wider. Ian was going slow, too slow and the fucker didn’t seem like he was in a hurry.

Ian bent down and licked from one knee, up the inside of his thigh, then up his hips. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Mickey groaned and moved quick enough to grab Ian’s messy hair and lead him to his dick. “I need your mouth, please.” He begged but Ian just kissed the tip, moving back to see how sticky his lips were. “Kiss me.”

Ian moved up to kiss him. But Mickey stopped and ran his tongue over his sticky lips before dragging him into a kiss. Ian moaned and kept from surging forward to grind against him. He pulled back as Mickey whined. He gripped his thighs and squeezed. 

“Ian.” Mickey whined as Ian started to kiss down his body. First his neck, then lower to suck his nipples, then onto his hips. “Please…please…” he kept begging each time Ian moved. Each kiss, each lick had him clawing the bed, pushing his hips up, looking for anything to grind on. His legs shook the bed and Ian just kept it up. “Feels so good it hurts.”

Ian chuckled and moved to lay on his belly between Mickey’s legs. He kissed and nipped and nuzzled his groin and his thighs, licking a long stripe up one side of his dick. “Mmm, I love how you taste.”

“God.” He closed his eyes and nearly prayed for death. It had to be easier to sit through than this. Everywhere he moved, Ian was there. Kissing and biting and sucking. He turned his head to the side and into the sheets and Ian’s smell danced up his nose, making him groan and search for attention. “Please!!” 

Ian smirked, grabbed both of Mickey’s thighs and pushed them forward.

“Ian?” Mickey asked, voice laced with so much need, it didn’t sound like him anymore.

“Hmmm?” Ian wasn’t paying attention to anything but Mickey’s ass. Just inches from his mouth, begging for it.

“Eat me.” Mickey begged and fisted the top of Ian’s hair, trying to push him down. 

Ian groaned and licked his lips. There was no room for anymore teasing. His dick was already hard and pushed against the sheets and Mickey was nearly gone with need. He kissed over thick thighs, then over the globes of his ass and finally let Mickey guide him.

Mickey was shaking as he moved Ian where he needed him. That first lick had him throwing his head back, unable to sit forward to watch. “God Damn!” He groaned as Ian licked over him. Flattening his tongue, swirling it in circles, fast, then slow. “So fucking good Ian!”

Ian growled and opened his mouth to suck at him. Eating him like he kissed at his lips. Grabbing Mickey’s hips to pull him closer.

“Fuck...fuck…Fuck!!” Mickey screamed as soon as Ian’s tongue slipped inside, wiggling hot and fast. Ian growled against him, gripping at his thighs, urging him to rock down against him. Hands spread him open wider and Ian pulled back enough to spit directly against his hole.

Fuck, it was so dirty, so messy and fuck if it didn’t get him close. His head was so heavy as he tried to lift it and see, until Ian’s finger brushed against him. “Gotta hurry Ian.”

Ian spit on him again, then pushed it inside with his finger. Mickey tensed and gave a long, deep groan. He looked up to see blue eyes closed, mouth hanging wide open. “God, you’re sexy like this.”

Mickey rose up on his elbows as Ian moved to kiss up his thighs. Wet kisses that ended with Ian’s teeth. “You need to fuck me. Like now.”

Ian wiggled his way back up and Mickey latched onto his mouth, sucking at his lips when they kissed. He opened for Ian, put one hand between them and slowly started to stroke him. Ian groaned into his mouth and pushed that finger in deeper. 

“Fuck!” He groaned as the kiss stopped and Ian pushed against his prostate. “Please Ian, please.” He angled Ian so he brushed against his hole and made his legs shake. “God, please hurry.”

Ian groaned and tried to rock his hips forward, but he didn’t get very far. Mickey was tight as fuck and he was…bigger than average and not slick enough. “You want it baby?” 

“Yes! Yes, I want it!” he spread his legs as wide as they could, one hooking around Ian’s hip. “Been waiting too fucking long.”

Ian smirked but Mickey was right. They had been playing the field for days. Endless days and nights with too many interruptions. “Gonna need to open you up baby.”

Mickey trembled as he kissed along Ian’s neck. “Got anything here?”

Ian groaned and nearly pulled the side table drawer all the way out as he reached in for the bottle. Mickey wasn’t making it easy on him, biting up and down his neck, groaning and moving his ass across his dick. “Fuckin eager.” He growled and grabbed the bottle.

Mickey smirked and fell back against the bed as Ian rose to his knees. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Ian popped the cap on the bottle and smoothed some clear gel onto two of his fingers. The entire action was enough to make him shiver in anticipation. 

Ian grabbed his ankle and moved one leg to rest on one of his shoulders and Mickey had to fight off his blush. Ian had his head cocked to one side as he brought slick fingers down to rub against him. The first slipped in with no problem and Mickey bit his lip, muffling his groan.

“Gimme me another.” Mickey panted as number two slipped in and Ian groaned along with him as he pushed them in and out of his body. Scissoring them open to stretch him, then going in deep. “Shit, Ian…”

Ian gripped his thigh and let another slip in beside the first two. Mickey arched back, hands going to either side as he gripped the bed and pushed against his fingers. Ian turned to kiss and nip at his leg, groaning as he tried not to rock his hips forward. 

“Okay…” Mickey groaned. “Okay, three is enough.” He breathed in deep, well aware of how bad his legs were shaking.

“You sure?” Ian’s deep voice boomed in the quiet room. “I’m bigger than three baby.” He warned with a smile.

Mickey nodded and moved his leg down, grabbed Ian by the back of his neck and pulled him down. He wrapped both legs around Ian’s hips and they both groaned when his dick slipped against him. “I know, but I wanna be able to feel all of it.”

Ian groaned and slipped both arms under Mickey’s back. One gripped the bed, he other gripped his shoulder to keep him in place. “Trust me baby,” he started to rock forward. “God, you’re gonna feel all of it.”

Mickey breathed in deep, pushing his head against Ian’s chest so he could look down and watch. “M' ready Ian. Let me feel it.” Ian pulled his hips back and powered forward, thrusting at least half way in and the burn was instant. Mickey squirmed and tried to breathe. Ian was damn near whining in his ear.

“So fucking tight…” he groaned and gripped the bed.

“More!” Mickey gasped and tried to relax. It felt too damn good to hurt like it should. Ian’s grip on his shoulder kept him in place as he took more when Ian pushed in again. “F-fuck!” He dug his nails into Ian’s back and finally breathed deep when the tops of Ian’s shaking thighs pressed against his ass. 

Mickey’s heart stuttered for the first time in hours. Beating irregularly in his chest. First one beat, then two, then it skipped to four and on and on. The fear was there but he ignored it all as Ian spoke.

“Oh, baby!” Ian dropped his head into Mickey’s neck to breathe deeply, smelling him all around as he took breath after breath. “So perfect.”

It would have been a mistake to move. Both of them were right on the edge, one deep breath too many and it would he over before it started. Mickey gripped Ian’s hair and pulled him from the crook of his neck to rest their heads together. Green eyes were hidden from him, shut behind pale lids and he wanted to see them.

“Ian,” he waited until Ian let out a soft ‘hmm.’ “Look at me.”

Ian peeled his eyes open and that desperate, needy look had him thrusting forward. “Mick.”

Mickey couldn’t help as his own eyes closed from that first thrust. Then another, deeper, harder. “Yes!” He tightened his thighs and felt Ian grip his shoulder tighter. “Fuck me Ian.”

Ian growled into his ear and pulled back, pausing to hear Mickey’s breath catch before he slammed back in. His eyes rolled back as Mickey’s body absorbed the blow, taking it like a fucking champion. “Fuck, you take it so good baby.” He snapped forward again, seeing his body swallow him down. “God!”

Mickey held on as Ian’s body rolled forward into him, making his breath catch in his lungs with each brutal swing of his hips. Each thrust, each slap of skin had him clawing down Ian’s back, had his nails digging into his ass to bring him closer. “Yes! Fuck, Ian!” 

Ian unwound from Mickey’s body, grabbed both of his ankles and spread his legs wide so he could look at all of him. Face and chest flushed red, his hickey on Mickey’s collar bone, a bite mark below his nipple, his dick hard and wet bobbing as he snapped his hips forward. One of Mickey’s hands rested on his hip, trying to bring him closer. 

“I need you to ride me!” He growled, bent back down to scoop him up until Mickey was straddling him as he knelt on the bed. “Like this.”

Mickey’s legs shook as he was forced to use them. Trying to hold himself up. Ian held him by his ass and slowly rolled his body. “So much deeper this way…” his head fell toward as he fought the urge to come. “It’s so good!” He nearly sobbed, his body feeling more open and exposed then he had been in years. “So, fucking good.”

Ian buried into his neck, kissing and sucking until he reached his ear. “I know it’s hard to think baby…” his entire body shuddered when Mickey started to move. “That’s it…fuck, that’s it. Just ride this dick baby…ride it like you own it.”

Mickey sunk his nails into Ian’s shoulders as he got a good grip, planted his feet firm on the bed and slid up until only Ian’s head remained inside. “Like this?” He asked and slammed back down. Ian tightened all around him, whining into his chest as he did it over and over again. “This dick is mine Ian.” He sank his teeth into the meat of his neck. “All fucking mine. Everything. All of you is mine.”

“All yours baby, fuck yeah, it's all yours!” Ian gripped his thighs as he moved them up the bed to push Mickey’s back against the headboard, trapping him there. Sweat made their skin stick together, legs shaking, bodies moving. “Oh baby…I feel it.”

Mickey was slammed hard against the headboard. Ian pushing in as fast and as deep as he could. He could only hold on, one hand trapped between their sticky body’s, jerking himself in tune with Ian’s hips. Each thrust hit his prostate until he couldn’t breathe. 

“Close!!” he knew he screamed it, but it only came out as a whisper. The banging of the headboard against the wall, plus the sound of Ian growling was so loud. “Ian…”

Ian kept going, fucking into him harder and faster, hands on his thighs as he pounded into him. Mickey’s begging and whimpering only egged him on, made him go harder. “I gotcha baby,” he put his head against Mickey’s sweating temple. “Gonna fill you up and eat it all out.”

Mickey was pretty sure he’d died along the way and this was heaven. Of course, that was until a particularly hard thrust sent a framed picture off the wall and down against his shoulder. He ignored the pain and his body spasmed.

“There!! Right there….Ian…Ian, fuck!!” He begged and felt Ian’s hips stutter.

“Come for me!” Ian demanded and bit the side of his neck. “You gotta come first baby, please!”

It didn’t take too much of Ian begging to have him coming hard and fast, spilling over his hand to slick up their chests, gluing them together as Ian kept going. “Shit!!”

“Fuck…fuck!!” Ian thrusted once more and felt his entire skeleton get ripped out of his body as he came, pumping his hips fast as he filled him up. “Mick!” He closed his eyes and slowly kept moving, feeling Mickey breathe hotly into his neck.

“Jesus Christ.” Mickey’s legs gave out and he fell into Ian’s lap as Ian fell to the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore.

Neither of them could move beyond kissing slick skin, running shaking hands over each other and breathing deeply. Anything else seemed too difficult. Too strenuous. Mickey’s heart beat fast and irregular and Ian took notice and drew back, feeling the come peeling apart as they did.

“Shit, you okay?” Ian put a hand to Mickey’s chest. “I didn’t even think…I should have—”

Mickey cut him off with a kiss that Ian melted unto. Ian’s hand came up to cup his face softly. “M'fine Ian.” He smiled as he tried to breathe past his erratic heart beat. “I am so fucking good right now.”

Ian held him close as he backed up enough to be able to lay Mickey back against the pillows. He slipped out but stayed between his legs. “Still, maybe…” he brushed his hair back.

Mickey kissed him again quickly. “No maybe Ian. No what ifs. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.” He smoothed Ian’s slick hair back as a drop of sweat fell onto his body. “God, that was so fucking good.”

Ian smiled and let his hand slip down between their bodies, going right between Mickey’s legs where his come had started to leak out. Mickey moaned as he slipped the tip of his thumb inside and pulled it back out, bringing it up to suck it off.

“God damn!” Mickey groaned and pulled Ian down to kiss him. Mickey licked Ian’s come off his tongue and groaned when Ian rubbed against him suggestively. “You’re such a tease.” Mickey laughed as Ian pulled back.

“Yes. I am.” He moved away and slid all the way down so his head was between Mickey’s thighs. “And I do believe I said I was going to do something else…” he licked between his cheeks, groaning. “You remember what I said I was gonna do?” he grinned and quirked an eyebrow.

Mickey’s legs shook as Ian dipped his head down, no longer waiting for an answer. “Holy shit…” he threw his head back and let Ian do anything he wanted…as long as he didn’t stop.

**

Mickey woke to the screaming sound of his phone going off. He groaned and reached over to slap at it, trying to shut it the help up but it kept ringing. “Shut up!” He groaned and tucked his head under the pillow.

Ian moved behind him, pulling him back to his body so every inch of their body’s lined up. That was enough to make him come out from under the pillow and peek over. Ian was fast asleep, his own head of red hair tucked halfway under a pillow. 

Mickey smiled and tried to scoot back against his chest, but his entire body creaked like a rusted oil tank. His thighs screamed at him, making him remember when Ian made him use them, his shoulder ached from the picture falling on them, his ass hurt from…well, cuz Ian was a blessed motherfucker with a dick made of solid gold.

The ringing started again. “Jesus!” He grumped and scooted towards the end of the bed where his pants were. Ian stayed with him, moving as he moved. “Fuckin octopus!” He smiled and grabbed his slacks, quickly going through the pockets to get his phone.

The damn thing stopped ringing the moment he touched it and he fell to the bed as he whined. Ian didn’t seem to care. He pulled him back against his chest at the foot of the bed and he could only grin. Cuddly Ian was fucking awesome. 

“Come back and stop movin.” Ian grumbled and tucked his face into Mickey’s neck.

Mickey fell back into the embrace easily. Each kiss to his neck had every ache and pain vanishing until he was relaxed, his muscles loose and calm, and fucking fantastic. He nuzzled his head into Ian’s arm that rested under his neck and settled back into sleep.

His phone rang again and this time he didn’t bother to move or open his eyes. Mickey swiped to the right and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Mick.”

Blue eyes opened to the sound of Captain Fuller in his ear. He rose up on one elbow, grinning as Ian only moved into the warm spot he vacated, his head tucking close to his side. “Yeah?”

“Shit, just makin sure you’re alive. Figured we’d see ya sometime today.”

Mickey pulled the phone back to see that it was nearly 11. “Fuck, sorry man. Guess my alarm didn’t go off.”

“Easy Mick, one day in 10 years won’t kill you. Make sure you shower and eat before you get here. We got a full day.”

“Yeah, sure. See you soon.” He ended the call and tried to sit up, but Ian kept trying to pull him back down. He smiled. “Yo Sleepy face, time to get up.”

Ian groaned and tucked his head into Mickey’s warm back. “Don’t wanna.”

“It’s already past 11. I was supposed to be up 3 hours ago.” He was finally able to pull away enough to sit up and let his feet fall to the floor. “You stayin here?”

That got him to sit up, eyes half closed, hair sticking up in the air. “No, not unless you are.”

Mickey grinned. “Nope. Work to do. Lives to ruin.” He stood up and his back, shoulder and both knees popped. “Jesus, you used me like an amusement park.”

Ian’s chuckle was full of satisfaction as he rolled to his back, arms going behind his head. “That body should be used like one.” He eyed Mickey’s ass with a new hunger that made his stomach grumble. 

Mickey smirked. “Hungry much?”

Ian thought it over. “I don’t think it works like that anymore. But maybe you should come sit on my face til it stops making noises.”

Mickey groaned and his ass twitched. He wanted it. “Keep those wicked words to yourself. I gotta shower, eat and haul my ass into work.” He moved for the shower, only now remembering they were in Ian’s apartment. 

He turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped in. “God!” He groaned deeply as the water loosened each muscle it touched. He leaned his head back just as the curtain opened and Ian joined him. “Sore all over.” He smiled. “I love it.”

Ian slid his hands over slick skin as he gripped his waist and pulled him forward. “You are glowing.”

Mickey blushed as his eyes opened to see Ian studying each inch of his body. Ian had this glow to him as well. Along with other signs from last night. A perfect print of his teeth on the left side of his neck, scratches nearly everywhere. Shoulders, hips, sides, probably his back and over the swell of his ass. 

“Shit, sorry.” He leaned forward to kiss the bite mark and Ian purred. 

Ian reached behind him to grab a clean rag off the towel rack and his body wash and worked it until bubbles swirled down the drain. Ian smiled as he started on Mickey’s back, rubbing all the stress, sweat and come down the drain. “Never be sorry about that baby.”

Mickey closed his eyes, his head lolling forward on one of Ian’s shoulders. “No, why not?” 

“Because I love it.” He moved to Mickey’s front, creating a sheet of bubbles between them.

“Fuck, that feels good.” Mickey was forced to move back as Ian dropped to one knee, soaping up his lower half. He had to hold Ian’s shoulder for balance. “I know what you’re doin.”

Ian grinned and pushed Mickey back into the stream of water to rinse away the bubbles so he could kiss the fresh, clean skin of his hip. “I am just trying to take care of you baby.”

Mickey didn’t believe that for a second, especially when Ian kissed from hip to hip, his hands running up and down his legs. “As much as I would love a good round of shower sex, I can’t. I’m already late.” He grabbed the shampoo to wash his hair, but Ian didn’t move. 

“No? Too bad really.” Ian ran his tongue up the length of Mickey’s half hard dick and swirled it around the head. “How about some shower head then?”

Mickey gasped as he tipped his head back to wash out the shampoo. He looked down, catching Ian’s eyes. “Yeah?” Ian grinned. “Think you can get me off before I’m done with my hair?” He arched an eyebrow.

Ian growled. “Let’s find out.”

*

After Ian’s successful round of quick shower head, the short trip to the prescient had let reality set in. He had sex with Ian. Like straight up…well, not straight sex, but sex, no joking around this time. They’d fucked. No ifs ands or maybes about it. No clothes, no interruptions, all skin. They had sex and it had been fucking epic by his standards. Ian set the new bar for amazing sex. 

And the best part about it? They hadn’t traded ‘I love you’s.” He hated that shit. Anyone could say I love you after sex and have it feel real. It wasn’t. People who said that shit during sex did not mean it. That’s how he knew this shit was real, as if he needed anything else to sway him.

He loved Ian Gallagher.

After that epiphany, he realized what else he’d done last night. Did he really fix shit between Amara and Yes? Why the hell had he done that? That relationship was the only thing he was sure he didn’t want. The thing that pissed him off the most was that no one had to twist his arm into doing it. He did that shit all on his own. Maybe he was having a mental break down.

First going to get his sons adult, married boyfriend and giving them free reign of the apartment to fuck in, then having a heated session of ghost sex with Ian? Yeah, definitely crazy. Maybe he should make another doctors appointment. Something was going on in his mind.

Walking into the prescient after yesterday was…odd. After his explosion with Fuller, revealing that shit about Yev and Amara, he expected everyone to gang up on him and try to figure it out. They didn’t. Even as he walked in, only a few people noticed and nodded hello or some small greeting like that. 

“Think they forgot about yesterday?” Ian asked as he walked beside him.

Mickey scuffed. “Not bloody likely. Cops don’t forget shit.” He moved past his desk and into the break room for some coffee. “I’m sure they just don’t wanna stir shit up.”

Ian nodded and took the cup Mickey offered him. “Good, maybe it won’t happen at all.”

Mickey took a long drink, not caring if it burned his throat. “Maybe, but again I’m sure it’ll happen. I’m gonna have to get a new partner and people talk.”

Ian put an arm around him and kissed his temple. “It’ll work out baby, just try and relax.”

Mickey nodded and turned for a kiss which Ian happily gave him. “Today is gonna be pretty hectic. I’m about to go talk to Steve…fuck, Jimmy I meant. You wanna stay here? I don’t want shit to get weird or get you upset.”

“You want me to stay?”

Mickey shook his head. “No, not really. But I need to talk about all that serious shit. Like yesterday but multiply it by 100. I’m gonna have to say shit I don’t mean, bad shit, and I don’t want to you hear it or see it.”

Ian tensed a little. “Shit about me?”

He nodded, fucking uncomfortable. “It’s not like I’m going to mean any of it, but sometimes I need to piss them off.”

Ian grabbed his chin and kissed him hard, feeling the moment Mickey realized he understood. “Go ahead baby.”

Mickey kissed him again. “You sure?”

Ian grinned. “Don’t hold back.”

“For you, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Mickey pulled away before Ian tempted him with more kisses. He stopped at his desk to grab the stack of files and marched passed everyone to the interrogation room. 

Fuller was waiting. Looking in at JimmySteve through the one way glass. Mickey didn’t balk. He stepped up beside him like business as usual. Jimmy was inside, talking to his lawyer. 

“Hey.” Fuller started.

Mickey nodded. “He been here long?” 

“Bout a half hour or so. Long enough to get his panties in a twist.”

Mickey nodded and that was that. Nothing else they needed to talk about right this second. Today he was going to get some answers. He opened the door and they stopped talking, putting their 'game faces' on.

“Good after noon Steve…Jimmy, I mean. Heard you wanted to talk?” Mickey arched an eyebrow as he took a seat at the table.

“Yes detective, my client wanted to clear a few things up after the images you so kindly provided us with.”

God, he hated lawyers. After arresting Jimmy, his lawyers had requested to see the tapes of the Fairy Tale and it clearly showed Jimmy’s face, roughly half an hour before Ian was killed. 

“Of course. Just as long as your client tells me the truth this time.” He glared at Jimmy. “I am very busy today and don’t have room for bullshit.”

Jimmy spoke up. “No bullshit.”

Mickey nodded, hands spread out. “Okay, first of all, were you at the Fairy Tale on Sunday around 4 o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“Oh good.” He snorted, it was easy to admit when he was caught red handed. “You wanna tell me what you were doing there?” 

Jimmy started to fidget, to get nervous. Looking everywhere but at him. He glanced at the lawyer and got a simple nod in return. Whatever it was, was important enough to share with his lawyer. 

“Well? I don’t have all day.” Mickey prompted and got a glare from Jimmy in return. 

“Go ahead Mister Lishman.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine.” He said at last. “I knew about my dad seeing Ian.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “So, what? That shit at the house was posturing?” 

Jimmy nodded. “I know it looks bad.”

“Looks more than bad there Jimbo.” He shook his head. “How'd you find out?”

“My mom had a feeling my dad was cheating. She asked me to follow him and I did. He went to some expensive ass hotel up town.”

“And Ian was there.” It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a coincidence. But then they….” Jimmy grimaced. “They started kissing and went up to his room.”

Mickey clenched his jaw. This is the shit he did not need to know. Like ever. “And did you tell your mom?”

“No, of course not. It’s one thing to cheat with another woman, but a man? A younger man? She would kill him.”

Bad choice of words. He glared at Jimmy who seemed to realize and paled a little. “You have a problem with gay people Jimmy?” he quirked an eyebrow.

His eyes widened. “What? No! Of course not. I knew Ian was gay, I’ve been around him long enough and I don’t care if he was gay. But that’s my dad Mickey.”

“That’s detective to you, Jimmy.” He scowled. Now was not the time to get pissy over names. “So, did you confront your father?”

Jimmy nodded. “Just after Ian left. I knocked on his door and he nearly had a heart attack when he saw it was me.’ He rubbed a hand over his face. “I went to the club as soon as I could to try and convince Ian to end shit with him.”

“At 4 in the morning, on a Sunday no doubt? What, it couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour?” 

“I waited three days Mic—detective. But my dad kept hounding me, asking if I had told her anything.”

“Okay,” he huffed. This shit still didn’t add up. “So, you show up, follow him out…” he left it blank for Jimmy to fill in the blanks. 

“And he told me shit wasn’t going to end. That he liked it just the way it was and that maybe my dad should tell my mom.”

Mickey leaned forward. “And then…” 

“Fuck. Then, I call my dad and told him. That’s the call he got that he told my mother was work calling. I told him what Ian said and he freaked out.” 

Freaked out. Ian threatening to tell Mrs. Lishman about them…motive. The good doctor lied about who he spoke to and it painted a pretty bleak picture.  
“Did your dad meet you there?” Mickey asked and the lawyer only nodded at Jimmy again. “Did he meet you that night?”

Jimmy shook his head, anxious, nervous. “He said he was already on his way, but he never met me. He was supposed to meet me at the front entrance, but he never showed up.” He stood up and started to pace. “He never met me!”

Mickey leaned back. Jimmy actually seemed freaked out. But he had at the house too and lied his ass off. He wouldn’t risk believing him again. Not even with an Oscar Winning performance like that. But that gave Mister Lishman motive, means and opportunity to kill Ian. 

“You realize that you’re giving up your old man, right?” he waited until Jimmy looked up at him. Eyes wide and teary. “You sure that’s what you want to go with?”

“Mister Lishman doesn’t want to be charged with a crime he did not commit. He did not kill Ian Gallagher, and he did not set him up to be killed.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a conspiracy.” He shook his head, already regretting his next words. “Maybe you and dear old dad wanted him gone. Ian was gonna tell the old lady, they’d get a divorce and rich, pre-med Jimmy Lishman would go back to being plain old Steve. So you stalked Ian,” Jimmy shook his head. “you waited for him to leave and when he didn’t agree to move along, you called your dad for assistance.”

“No, no that is not what happened!” 

“Sure it is.” He countered quickly. “That way, you get all of Fiona's attention, your dad gets to keep his secret and you keep yours. Oh, and I bet you switched Ian’s medication too.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I loved Ian like a brother…” His voice cracked. “And my dad…no, there is no way that it was him.”

Mickey wanted, he needed to see every reaction. But he was a damn good actor. Each emotion could have been faked. It was easy to cry, easier to lie. To make up a story. Even if it sounded like it was true. “And the pills?”

“Jesus, what pills?” he scuffed. “Even being pre-med I can barely pronounce them. I have no reason to switch his pills. And I have no way into Ian’s apartment.”

He shrugged. “You might. Ian’s illness is a burden for Fiona, she probably spends half her time, half your time checking in on him. Maybe you switched them, he becomes manic again, you can commit him…” he trailed off, it spoke for itself. “And You break into cars Jimmy, a shitty lock on a studio would be nothing.”

“Clearly speculation detective.”

Jimmy sat back down, hands holding his face. “I would never, ever do that to Ian. You never saw what he was like when he was off his meds.”

Mickey paused on his next smartass comment to listen.

“You weren’t there when we had to go through that shit with Monica.” He mumbled. “Like on Thanksgiving, she slit her wrists with the entire family in the next room. Or when she stole every single penny, they saved for the winter months, over 5000 gone in under a day. Bringing her kids around, bringing 3 year old Liam around to buy drugs.”

Mickey kept quiet.

“They had to deal with that each time she came around. And when they didn’t,” he laughed. “They were so happy. So fucking happy. Until Ian wouldn’t get out of bed for 4 days straight.” Jimmy hiccupped.

Mickey’s heart clenched. 

“4 days of them trying to get him to get out of bed. You didn’t see Debbie, and Carl crawl into bed with us because they didn’t want to sleep in the same room with him.” Jimmy wiped his eyes. “Just a bunch of scared kids with no parents.”

With each sentence, Jimmy’s voice wavered. He lost all confidence and it was all raw emotion. Real emotion. And Mickey knew he never wanted to see Ian in any other way than what he was. Alive…kinda, happy. Bright and beautiful and loving. And his.

“Or when Ian nearly killed Debbie with a bat because he thought people were outside to get him. Or when he up and joined the army under Lip's name. Or when it got so bad that they had to commit him to the hospital.” Jimmy wiped his face. “I would never, ever mess with Ian like that.”

Mickey blew out a deep breath. “Okay, I believe you.” Jimmy let out a breath as well. “But you’re not off the hook Jimmy.” He looked at the Lawyer. “Keep him away from home. I don’t care if he has to stay in a hotel or in a damn crack house. I don’t want anything to tip the old man off.”

Jimmy scuffed. “I’m not going to tell him Mickey.”

He shook his head. “See, I don’t believe you. You’ve told me too many lies already, and I’m done with the games.”

“No, more games. I’ll grab a hotel nearby, but I can’t stay there forever.” 

The lawyer spoke up and Mickey wanted to gag each time he heard his voice. 

“You have two days, or he goes home detective. You can’t expect him to stay indefinitely at a hotel.”

“Two days is plenty.” He nodded, happy everyone seemed to agree. “But I want you to wear an ankle monitor, and if I find you anywhere near your house, I’m going to arrest you again.”

“Fuck. Fine” Jimmy grumbled, clearly unhappy. 

“Good. Wait here and I’ll have someone fill out the paper work and get that monitor set up. In the mean time,” he handed him a pad of paper and a pen. “Write up what you told me about that night and sign it.”

“Anything else detective?” The lawyer asked dismissively.

Mickey stood, smiling. “Nope. Thank you.” He grabbed his files and hauled ass out of there. He didn’t get what he wanted, not really. Maybe Ian had been right, and Jimmy didn’t do it. It kinda seemed like his dad did. All over a threat towards the wife? It would have been easier to try and pay Ian off or scrub all evidence of their little affair. 

Mickey barely made it down the hallway when Fuller was coming towards him. Great. His boss was his what…temporary partner until he got a replacement? He did not need this.

“Go okay?” Fuller asked as he stopped and crossed his arms.

Mickey shrugged. “Not too bad. A few answers, more questions and a statement about who might have done this.” He was itchin to get away from this. Away from Fuller.

“Good, good. Well, it must be your big break because we got the guy that slugged you in the other interrogation room. Apparently, he wants to talk to only you and he won’t say why.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. It was just like he told Ian. The guy would eventually get scared of all the charges piling up against him and squeal like a pig. “Good, as waitin for him to speak up. Good timing though.”

“Well, go get em.”

Mikey cringed. This was not working. This thing with him and Fuller acting like nothing happened. They would have to talk about it, Soon. But not now. Now, he needed more answers, even though he thought Jimmy had given him his answer.

With a deep breath, that longing feeling invading his body the longer he spent away from Ian. He wanted to see him. If only for that quick kiss they’d grown accustomed to. And to rinse his mind of all that bullshit he tossed at Jimmy. It felt wrong. All of it. 

Not to mention all that information about Ian’s mom, about his family and their history with mental illness. About Ian and the things he’d done. It didn’t change the way he saw Ian, but it was something he had to think about now that the door was opened.

“Get it together.” He mumbled as he stepped in front of the door. 

With a deep breath, Mickey opened the door and Raines sat in an ugly ass orange jump shit, cuffed to the table with a black eye and a busted lip. His tight suit lawyer looking positively annoyed beside him. 

“Well, what happened to that pretty face?” Mickey smirked as he sat down, arms crossed behind his head.

Zeppelin scuffed. “You should know.”

His eyebrows rose. “Is that right? How you figure?”

“You trying to lie to my face and tell me it wasn’t you who told the boys in lock up that I killed a kid?”

Mickey shrugged. He may have passed that little rumor along the grape vine. Normally shit didn’t get inside that quick. “Well, you did like to slap em around.”

“Ian was not some kid, detective. Trust me.” He winked.

Mickey was ready to crawl across that table and beat him to death already and they hadn’t even started. “One more comment like that, and you’ll add a few bruises to that collection.”

“Threats will get you nowhere detective.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at the lawyer. Vampires, the lot of them. Just money hungry vampires. “Fine. You wanna dick around? I’ll send your ass back. This was just a pit stop for me.” He moved to get up.

“Please. Fuck, just sit down.” 

Mickey leaned back and got comfortable, staring Raines right in the eyes. The guy looked bad. Face back and blue, it look like he hadn’t slept at all, even lost a few pounds. Jail life was not being kind to him. 

“Well? You wanna tell me something or are you just wasting my time?”

“You have to get me outta there.” Zeppelin blurted, a little jittery.

Mickey snorted. “Shit ain’t gonna go very far if you think I can make that happen.”

“He wants to make a deal.” The lawyer spoke up.

“Deals require shit I want or need. You got anything like that for me?” he chewed on his lip as he waited. 

“What do you want?”

“Tell me why you were fuckin with his meds.” He raised his eyebrows when it took Raines longer than a second to answer. 

“Shit. Okay, I switched them because I wanted him back.” Zeppelin mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He snapped. 

Mickey shook his head. “Yeah, I heard you. I just thought maybe you’d want to rethink that. How in the hell do those two things coincide?”

Zeppelin groaned as he tried to explain. “When he was manic, it’s like he wanted me more. The sex was better, everything was just better.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “He actually wanted me. He wanted to party and blow off his annoying family and spend days just bar hoppin and fucking.”

Mickey visibly flinched. Okay, he really might be sick. From listening to Jimmy talk about Ian kissing his dad, now Raines talking about week long, manic fuck fests, he was about to barf. He felt it bubble in his chest and tried his best to breathe past it.

“Okay?...” he mumbled and put his fist to his mouth, trying to breathe deep. Gross. Fucking gross. 

“And it was good. Then he started takin that shit, and it all fell apart. He didn’t want to come out anymore and kept ditchin me for his family, and his doctor said to stop the drinking and drugs and parties. All the fun shit. All the shit we liked.”

This guy was fucking nuts. He only wanted Ian when he was off his meds? Wasn’t it normally the other way around? Most people that cared about you, or said they did, wanted you to get better. Not Raines. He wanted Ian at his worst because it was fun.

“Let me get this straight,” Mickey huffed out a laugh. “You risked his mental health, and his safety for a little fun and sex?”

Zeppelin shrugged, feeling guilty. “He was happier off the meds. His family made him take them and it changed everything about him.”

“Wow...that's,” he scuffed. “I don’t really know what to say to that. Aside from you’re a piece of shit.”

“Detective!” the lawyer grumbled.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”

“Like what?” 

“Like why you were at the club the night Ian died, he club they kicked you out of.”

“I slipped in when they weren’t looking. I wanted to see him, to see if anything had changed and I thought it had.”

Mickey leaned forward, both arms on the table and really wished for some coffee and a smoke. “What gave you that impression?”

“Ever since those pills, Ian doesn’t do the party favors. He says no. But that night he was dancing on some guy and I watched him take a pill. Right from this guys fingers. I thought that my Ian was back.”

Mickey grit his teeth. “His Ian!” Was he joking? God, he really wanted to put this guy away and throw away the damn key. Ian did say he took X that night, to calm down. That was probably what Raines saw him take. 

“When did you leave?” Mickey mumbled as he clenched his fists. This needed to end, quickly.

“Security caught me at the bar, knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. They tossed me out around 2.”

“Where did you go after that?”

“Called a cab and went home.”

Both of those things were easy to check. He could have Archie check the videos to see when he was booted and could check his credit cards to see if he called the cab. Then they could check with the cab company just to be sure.

Fuck. As much as he hated this guy, his story seemed to be lining up. But it didn’t mean that Raines didn’t double back around 4 to kill him. It was still possible.

“Any alibi around 4 that morning?”

Raines was quiet for a moment, sorting through his thoughts, into that poor excuse for a brain. Mickey couldn’t believe this guy. 

“There are cameras in my building. I got there around 3:30 and passed out. Didn’t leave for 2 days after that.”

Again, it would be easy to check. “Look, I can’t do shit about the burglary charge. I didn’t arrest you for that, so it’s out of my hands. But, if your story checks out, at the club and at your apartment, I’ll drop the assault charge.”

Raines smiled so big, it was damn near cute. But he wasn’t some gullible 17 year old anymore. It took more than a pretty face to get him to see past all the bad shit this guy was capable of.

“That’s excellent detective.”

Mickey stood and brushed off the offered hand from the lawyer. “But…” the lawyer scuffed and Raines's smiled dimmed. “I’m going to add reckless endangerment for fucking with that kids meds. I’ll have the A.D.A. contact you for a plea agreement.”

“You can’t do that!” Zeppelin whined. “Tell me he can’t do that.”

Mickey smirked at the lawyer. “Actually, I can. You admitted it and it could have caused some major damage if he would have been alive.”

He stood and headed for the exit as Raines' lawyer was trying to calm him down. Well, more questions answered. Another dead end. Raines was not their killer. He was almost certain the tapes would clear him and like Lip said, too much shit was pointing to him from the beginning.

“I need a damn smoke.” He grumbled and walked back into the bullpen. Ian sitting at his desk was all he needed to give a smile. Ian smiled back, big and bright. He dug in his pocket and wiggled the pack of cigarettes before heading to the door.

Ian followed, slipping out the back entrance. “Hey baby.” He leaned in to kiss him.

Mickey groaned and pulled Ian closer by his jacket, forgetting the cigarette. Kiss after kiss helped him relax, easing the tension in his shoulders. “Hey back.” He smiled as they broke apart.

“You were gone awhile. I hope that means it was good news?” 

Mickey paused to light a cigarette and took a deep drag before he spoke. “Good isn’t a word I’d use for this. But it did clear some shit up.”

Ian motioned for the smoke and Mickey handed it over. “What did Jimmy have to say?”

“A lot actually. He said he was there that night to talk to you. Do You remember that?” Mickey thumbed at the corner of his mouth. It would be so much easier if Ian could remember. 

“Uh, not really. I remember seeing Zeppelin for sure.” He paused to sort through all the clutter that was left of his mind. “Wait,”

Mickey perked up, all attention focused on Ian.

“I do actually. I remember I was getting ready to walk to the L and someone stopped me. But the face is blurry.”

Mickey nodded, deflating a little. “Well, he claims he went there to talk you into cutting contact with his dad.”

“He knew?!” Ian’s eyebrows rose. “But at the house…he was so…like, surprised.”

“All an act apparently. From the both of them.” Ian blinked, utterly shocked. “Lishman told me about when you and him would meet, Tuesday’s and Thursday's?” He took the smoke back.

“Uh, yeah. What else did he say?” Ian looked away.

Ian was nervous again. Ashamed. He hated it. “He said you two would get together for drinks or dinner and you’d go back to his hotel.”

Ian nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

“I guess a few days before you…” he let the sentence end because he didn’t want to say it. “Uh, a few days before that, that Thursday, apparently Jimmy was following him. His mom thought he was cheating and asked Jimmy to follow him. And he found you.”

“Shit.” He breathed and leaned back against the building. 

“Yeah. Jimmy said you wouldn’t end things and threatened to tell Lloyd's wife.”

Ian’s head jerked around, mouth wide open. “Seriously? How…why? I didn’t even like him that much. I don’t think I’d take it that far.”

“Yeah,” he looked down, unable to meet Ian’s eyes now. “Uh, if you did, that’s ok. You don’t gotta say that just cuz of me.” 

“Baby…” Ian moved away from the wall to stand in front of Mickey, slowly backing him up. “I’d never lie about shit like that. Yeah, I may wish it didn’t happen, but I wouldn’t just lie.” 

Mickey huffed and pulled Ian closer, arms around the small of his back. “You know all that shit, like before this…” he motioned between them. “I get it okay. You can tell me.”

“Mick,” Ian moved to cup his face, making their eyes meet. “I didn’t want that from him. It was just…” he sighed. “It was good for awhile. Like I told you. But if his wife found out, that didn’t bother me. Hell, my own abusive boyfriend found out and I kept seeing him.”

That made a little more sense. Or more than Jimmy’s story. “Yeah, I guess that kinda trumps Jimmy’s story.”

Ian leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “Anything else bothering you?” he ran his hands through Mickey’s hair. 

“Yeah, after I talked to Jimmy, Raines was waitin for me.” Mickey watched anger flash over Ian’s face. He always had that look when he said his name. “It was like I said.”

“He wanted to talk?”

Mickey nodded. “He got beat up pretty bad inside, wanted me to get him out.” He looked away again, afraid to have Ian see the answer all over his face.

“It’s jail,” Ian chuckled. “What, he suddenly became a bitch and can’t take someone beatin on him?”

Mickey knew Ian wasn’t over that pain yet, that trauma. He may never be. It took most people years to get past abuse like that. He was trying really hard to play it off though.

“Yeah, it’s kinda more than that.” Ian looked at him, expecting an explanation. “Uh, someone might have leaked that Raines liked to beat on kids…”

Ian took a step back and ran both hands through his hair, mumbling to himself. “Someone? You, you mean?”

Mickey nodded. “I might have made a comment when he was in central booking. Shit spreads like wild fire in there and that fucker deserved everything he got.”

At first, with the way Ian was acting, it seemed like they were gonna have a fight. Shit, first couples fight. Not good. He didn’t want it to be over that abusive asshole. But then Ian laughed, a full bellied, doubled over, holding his side, type laugh, and it still sounded like a whisper. It rang Like church bells through the back alley. 

When Ian let the laugh tickle into a chuckle and stepped forward. Ian grabbed him around the back of the neck and brought their faces close together. Ian’s breath was labored from laughing, Mickey was entranced with it.

“Oh baby,” Ian nuzzled his nose. “that’s so sexy…I can’t even right now.” He rubbed over his bottom lip.

“Yeah?” his voice was barely there as well, too into the moment. Too into Ian. He was suddenly on boarded with Ian being so close, pulsing his that sexual prowess that rolled off him in waves. Ian could go from calm to blazing hot with one look. “Thought we were gonna fight.”

“He ain’t worth it Mick.” Ian licked his lips. “But thank you for doing that baby. You keep surprising me.”

Suddenly all those mind shattering images from last night were on fast forward in his mind. Going at the speed of light. One in particular, when Ian’s voice sounded like it did right now, and he groaned deep.

“Fuck…” he closed his eyes but when Ian gripped his thighs and demanded he ride him…his voice had that same demanding bite to it. 

Ian smirked and pressed closer. “Something I said?”

Mickey nodded. “More like how you said it. Your voice gets this…” a groan bubbled up and bit his lip to keep it down. “Fuck, you kinda do this growling thing...”

Ian grabbed both of Mickey’s wrists and roughly pinned them to the brick wall. He let out that same growl and watched how it effected Mickey’s body. He arched against him, Ian could feel his legs shake, he let out a needy little whine and leaned forward to kiss him.

“Like that?” Ian asked as he did it again just to see his face contort in pained pleasure.

“Yeah, God. Just like that.” Mickey pushed his hips forward, trying to get Ian to do the same. “Sounds so fucking sexy.” He groaned and fell back when Ian didn’t take the bait.

“You are such a needy bottom.” He kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love it.”

“Asshole.” Mickey muttered and slipped his hands under Ian’s shirt, up to his chest to feel his heart. It gave a steady beat, no longer stuttering and he wanted to kiss it. “Lift your shirt up.”

Ian huffed out a laugh that puffed a cloud of hot air into the freezing air. “As tempting as it is to fuck you out here, it’s fuckin cold.”

He wasn’t taking no for an answer. He grabbed the bottom and lift it up and watched goosebumps cover his skin. “Wanna do something.” Mickey mumbled and pushed the shirt up to pool at Ian’s throat. 

Ian has red scratches down his sides, from his nails, a hickey at his collar tone and a bite make against his hip. Mickey flashed that cocky grin and Ian just snorted at him. 

“Baby…I thought you had shit to tell me.”

Mickey pushed his face against cooling skin and kissed over his chest, over his heart. “I did…” he paused to kiss. “I do.” More kissing. “But You distracted me.” He let his tongue curl around one of Ian’s erect nipples.

“S-shit!” He stuttered and his hips rolled forward in search of Mickey’s. 

He kissed back over his chest a few times, then laid his head down to hear his heart beat. Strong and steady and incredible. Ian’s hands moved from his hips, one to rub the back of his neck, the other to the side of his face.

Ian sighed deeply. “What am I going to do with you?”

Mickey smiled and moved to roll Ian’s shirt back down and link his arms around his neck. He looked into green eyes and said the only thing that came to mind.  
“Just love me.” 

Ian smiled happily and leaned in for that kiss. It was soft, sweet and nothing like their previous round of touching. They kissed like it was their first, their last and the kiss that Yev nearly walked in on. When Ian pulled back, he still had that same smile.

“Well, I can definitely do that.”

Mickey nodded, because Ian didn’t have a choice now. There was no walking away from this, from them. “We always do this shit at the worst times.”

Ian laughed but didn’t move back. “Yeah, we need to start when you’re off work…oh, wait, you’re never off work.”

Mickey nodded because he had him there. He always worked. No breaks, no holidays. And they stole moments and kisses, affection, when they could. “At least no one’s walked in yet. Imagine my crazy ass put here talkin to myself, touchin nothing.”

Ian giggled. “That would be funny though. I really need to hit up a library, internet maybe. Get a handle on this ghosty shit. Learn how to throw things when you’re not around.”

“Yeah, Casper, let’s get right on that.” Ian shoved him back playfully. 

“So, you said Zeppelin wanted to make a deal?”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, he admitted to takin your meds and switching them out.”

Ian scuffed. “The asshole say why, or did he just want to see me lose my shit?”

“Yeah actually.” Ian blinked at him, surprised. “He said before the bipolar stuff, you liked him more. That you wanted to party and fuck nonstop.” Ian’s mouth dropped open. Mickey held his hands up. “His words.”

“Uh…” he scuffed. “Um, I literally don’t know how to deal with that.” He backed up, thinking that Mickey might want some space.

“Is it true? Did you change that much from your meds?” 

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I did. He’s not wrong, I was hypersexual and manic and yeah, I did just want those things.” He took a deep breath. “But I hurt people, my family, myself. It wasn’t worth it.”

Fuck. Hearing Ian say it did not make it easier to handle then when Raines said it. Or Jimmy. “Well, that was his reason. He wanted and I quote; ‘his Ian' back.”

“Fuck.” 

Mickey nodded and looked down. “Yeah. Fuck, pretty much covers it.”

Ian was freaking out a little. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for Mickey to hear all that shit. “But I got better. I took my meds and listened to my family and my doctor and then that’s when he started his shit.”

It made sense. Raines didn’t seem like a guy to handle change well. Not when he had Ian right where he wanted him. A party buddy and dick on tap, it’s hard to give that up. But Raines didn’t care about Ian, at least not what mattered. You can’t pick and choose the qualities of one person. You take the bad shit too. 

They were quiet. Too quiet, as cliché as that sounded. Ian didn’t know what to say, he sure as hell didn’t know. In a normal relationship, there was a place and time for the ex's talk, and it didn’t go in depth like that just did. It was awkward and hard to hear. Bad part was, it was one sided. Mickey didn’t have any of his ex's sharing their past together. It offset everything.

Maybe it was too early to talk about it. So Mickey did what he did best, he ignored shit until the appropriate time. “Well, I think Lip was right about Raines. It’s too obvious to be him.”

“Mick, we gotta talk about this.” Ian turned towards him, trying his best to figure all this shit out.

“There is nothing to talk about.” He mumbled and turned away. He didn’t want to fight. Not about shit they couldn’t change. “Anyways, I need to check his alibi out for around that time, and I dropped the assault charge.”

“Baby…”

Mickey shook his head. “Look, all that shit; the party hoppin and the sex shit,” he groaned and needed to bleach his brain. “it’s in the past. You don’t have to feel bad about it or anything, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine Mickey.” Ian shot back, trying to get through to him. “If this was reversed and I had to hear your ex talking about fucking all over the place, I’d be fucking pissed off. I wouldn’t want to hear that shit.”

Mickey met his eyes. “I’m not mad Ian, I just don’t want to hear about sex and you and all that shit if it doesn’t include me.” He huffed. He didn’t mean to go that far with it, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to think about you and Raines or you and Ned…Lloyd, whatever the fuck his name is.”

Ian was staring at him and Mickey squirmed under the added attention. Ian let out a shallow breath and stepped towards him, he didn’t turn away this time, but Ian hadn’t touched him yet.

“They didn’t matter Mick. And I’m not just sayin that so don’t huff on me.” He quirked an eye when Mickey went to argue but stayed quiet. “One only wanted me for sex. To get him away from his shitty marriage and I can bet I wasn’t the only escape he had.”

Mickey didn’t voice the fact that Lloyd Lishman already confirmed that. 

“And Zeppelin? He only liked the manic side of me. When I was balanced, he hit me, apparently he changed my meds.” Ian stepped closer. “When I was stuck in bed for days, I didn’t even see him. Or when my sister committed me to the hospital.”

Mickey stood still as Ian took that last step towards him and they were now face to face. Ian was upset. Upset because he was. Upset because of everything they couldn’t control. 

“My point is, they are nothing compared to you.” Ian made sure to meet watery blue eyes for this. To make absolutely sure his point came across. “They only wanted one side of me. You,” he took Mickey’s face into his hands. “You want all of me. Even dead, even socially impaired, even when we have to hide and slink away and break apart, even when I left you for shit sake, even then you wanted me. All of me.”

Mickey laid his hands on top of Ian’s. 

“Why Mickey?” Ian continued without letting his reply. “Huh, why? Why don’t you run and find someone…alive, someone who isn’t 20 shades of crazy, someone you can be seen with, have a future with?” Ian’s voice cracked and he rubbed one of Mickey’s silent tears away. “Why baby?”

Mickey gripped Ian’s face, just like Ian had his. “Because I love you Ian.” He said it. He finally said it for sure, out loud. “They aren’t you, they can never be you.”

Ian’s body seemed to tremble at his words. Feeling them right down into his heart, the heart that only beat for Mickey. “Oh baby….” He turned his head to kiss Mickey’s palm. “I love you too.”


	15. Fading

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 15- Fading

“Hey man,” Mickey half ass knocked on Archie's door before he walked in, Ian not too far behind him. “You wanted to see me?”

Archie nodded and pointed to the big screen. “Yes, I have the club footage you wanted to see.”

He took a seat on the table, Ian next to him, his head resting against one shoulder. After their little heart to heart, literally, shit between them felt better. Stronger. Unbreakable.

“You find what I was lookin for?”

“I did. He was easy to find. He pretty much follows your victim all night.”

Mickey flinched and Ian rubbed his back.

“All the nights at the club are simple, planned out.” Archie points to Ian on stage. “He spends a while dancing on stage, then works the floor, lap dances, workin the room. Then near the end of the night, he goes to the back for private dances.”

This felt like more shit he didn’t want to know. “And where was he before 2?” that’s not what he wanted to ask. He wanted to know what all went on at those private dances. 

Archie clicks a few buttons and points. “On the floor. Lap dances mainly and he always has someone waiting. You can find your guy at the bar, closest to the floor.”

Mickey had a hard time taking his eyes off Ian and the way he moved. The way he danced. It was…fuck, it was something to look at. The outfit didn’t matter, even if it was a pair of gold, sometimes black, shorts. Ian could be wearing a scarf and snow boots and he would still be sexy. But it was the way he moved that caught Mickey’s eye. Total confidence in the way he moved. 

Ian danced like he was riding a constant wave. Just letting go and letting his body do all the work. The roll of his hips and the way he bent down and….holy fuck, his legs looked miles long. 

“Fuck.” He whispered and his breathing gave a little hitch. 

Ian lightly bumped against his arm. “Easy baby, don’t hurt yourself.”

Mickey sneered but Archie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I see Ian. Now show me the bar.” Mickey elbowed Ian’s side once Archie turned away. 

“If you want a dance Mick, all you have to do is ask.” Ian teased and licked up his ear.

“Fucking asshole.”

Archie turned again. “Hope you’re not talking to me.”

Mickey shook his head. He needed to be more careful with this Ian shit. But he can still look crazy when he talks to himself. “No, just thinkin out loud.”

“Nice save baby.” Ian chuckled but tried to keep quiet.

“Okay, here is the bar and you can see that your guy Raines occupies it for half the night. When Ian moves, he moves.”

Mickey watched Raines watch Ian like a hawk. It was creepy. Well, only because Raines was a creepy fucker. Watching Ian…that was something he understood completely. 

“So, around two, security comes and escorts him out.”

Mickey watched two big guys grab Raines by both arms and frog march him out. “All the way to the exit?” 

Archie nods and switched to another camera, the one at the doorway. “See?”

He did see. They kicked him all the way out the door. “Damn it.” So at least Raines had been telling the truth about that part. “And he doesn’t come back in?”

“I have facial recognition software that can track every move he makes on camera, and the time code, 2:10 is the last time his face shows up on camera.”

“Well, at least he was telling the truth, for once.”

Ian scuffed. “Wow, the one time I was hoping he lied, is when he tells the truth. Figures.”

Mickey knew exactly how he felt. It fuckin sucked. “Okay, I need to check his alibi for the rest of the night. Is there any way for you to see if this guy,” he paused and dug into the file for Mister Lishman's picture, “was there at all? Probably not inside, but at the front maybe? Say around 4?”

“The same time your vic was killed?”

Ian flinched. “Yeah, same time. Or any time before that. Got a witness that was supposed to meet him out front but never showed.”

Archie nodded and took the picture. “It’ll take me awhile to scan the picture and have the software locate him. You wanna come back?” 

“Yeah, got other shit to do.” Mickey pushed off the table and headed for the door.

“Mick.” Ian scuffed. “At least say thank you, maybe.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. He was soft hearted indeed. “Thanks Archie. See you later?”

Archie nodded. Not paying attention and Ian just shook his head. Mickey laughed as he left, making sure not to talk to Ian as he made it down the hallway and into the break room. It seemed to be the only place, aside from the deserted alley, that they can talk alone.

“So Zeppelin was telling the truth.” Ian walked to the window to look at the vastly approaching darkness.

“Yeah,” he rubbed a hand into the back of his shirt and quickly massaged the muscles of his right shoulder. “At least he left when he said he did. We have to wait to see if he doubled back.”

“What next?”

“Gotta go check his apartment. Maybe we don’t need a warrant for the tapes.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I need to check something else too.”

Ian perked up. “What?”

“The Kash & Grab. You remember it, right?”

Ian nodded. “Used to work there when I was 15. What’s there that you need?”

“Well, the gun you had on you was stolen from there a few weeks before all this shit.” Mickey took a tired breath. “Not to mention it has a freezer big enough to hold your large ass for a few days without people noticing.”

Ian stepped forward. “You callin me fat?” He smiled, unable to help it.

It made Mickey smile because Ian had a habit of trying to lighten the mood when shit started to get a little too real. He created a distraction, usually tempting him with kisses, other times it was a smart ass comment, like now.

“I believe I said large,” he smiled when Ian stopped just short of mowing him down. “And you know how large you are.” He quirked an eyebrow to make his point.

“Hmmm,” Ian stepped closer, arms coming to rest on his sides. “You didn’t seem to be complaining about how large I was last night.”

Mickey shivered. “Fuck no, and I ain’t now. I’m all for supersizing shit.” He leaned forward, grabbed a handful of Ian’s shirt and pulled it down enough to see the mark he left.

“Admiring your handiwork?”

Mickey nodded and kissed over it. “I am. Wanna see more of them on you.”

“Yeah?” Ian smirked and pulled at Mickey’s tucked in shirt.

He kissed to the other collar bone and lightly bit down. “Mm hmm, wanna see em all over.”

Before Ian could reply, someone walked into the break room and Mickey jump like someone goosed him in the ass. His face flushed red when Olivia was smiling at him.

“Hey Mick, you okay?”

Ian was giggling up a storm and Mickey wanted to flip him off. He nodded, trying to play off his odd behavior. He was only kissing his invisible boyfriend. Totally normal. “M’ good. Just trying to think for a moment.”

She nodded and moved to get some coffee. “Any progress on that Gallagher case?” 

“A little. A few new leads. But running em all down is kinda tough when…” he trailed off before he said too much. She knew. He knew that but him saying it was real. “I’m getting to it.”

“Still no partner?”

He shook his head. “Just trying to skate by while Fuller finds me one.” Fuck, this shit was weird. Ian was just standing there, looking slightly amused, half sorrowful and Mickey had no idea how he pulled off both emotions at once. 

“You want some help?” She offered and took a drink.

His eyebrows rose. “From you?”

She nodded. “Tryin to put some over time in and it seems like you need a hand.”

He looked at Ian who just nodded. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. You familiar with the details?”

Olivia nodded. “I’ve brushed up ever since Yev was here. I didn’t want to over step, but I figured you could use the help.”

Yev. That was something he wished she could tackle for him. He had no idea what their next talk would entail, and he wasn’t sure how to handle the entire thing. Yes, he’d fixed the immediate issue. But there was more. Yev's behavior, and for fuck sake, he hit him. Mickey could take a hit but still. 

“Let her help Mick. We need it.” Ian moved close enough for their shoulders to line up.

Mickey was grateful, even for that simple touch. “Yeah, I can use the help Liv, thanks.”

“So, those leads?”

“Yeah, a few places. Maybe we could split and take em?” he didn’t like sharing. Not really. Not after Amara. And it felt odd for him not to be present at each place, to absorb all of it but he needed the help. 

“Sure. Where am I headed?” 

“You know the Kash & Grab right?”

She scuffed. “Who doesn’t?”

That got a laugh from Ian. “The gun at the scene was reported stolen from there. Talk to the owner, he’s a moron but harmless.”

“Okay, should I be checkin out the freezer too?”

He looked at Ian, who gave him the same look.

She chuckled. “Told you I was up to speed. Not many people on your suspect list have access to a freezer that size but he does.”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, he does. You won’t find any blood there because the shot wasn’t fired until Ian was moved. But there might be something. Clothes or any surveillance tapes, if he’ll let you see them.”

“He won’t just give them up.” Ian commented, arms crossed. 

Mickey knew this but they could be persuasive when needed and he was sure Olivia could find something to threaten him with and make him talk. “Sound good?”

“Sounds great. Where are you headed?”

“Raines' apartment to see if his alibi checks out. If it does, I need to make a pit stop to the Lishman house. Gonna bring that fucker in, see if he gives us something.”

Olivia nodded. “If that happens, call me? Back up is a wonderful thing.”

Ian hummed his agreement. “Sure thing Liv, just watch your back.” She smiled again and walked out, leaving them alone again. “Fuck, well, that was close.”

“Yeah it was. But at least she is gonna help out. Too much runnin around for you to do alone.”

Mickey scuffed but pulled Ian closer until their heads pushed together. “Means less time with you.”

Ian grinned. “I’m always here, you know that.”

“Yeah, but I won’t get to talk as much if she’s around.” He looked up to see Ian looking a little pale. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

Mickey backed up enough to get a good look at him. “You just seem…I don’t know, pale? Lighter maybe?”

“Lighter?” 

He couldn’t explain it, but he knew what he was. Ian looked a little…less like Ian. Like when someone is sick, it’s like the light under their skin goes out, leaving them dim, pale. Mickey didn’t like it. It felt odd. He closed his eyes and blocked everything out and before he even had to think about their bond, it was there in flying colors. Twirling around the inside of his body like it was really alive.

“You still feel it, right?” Ian asked quietly.

Mickey nodded. It was there. Strong. Unbreakable. But it wasn’t the same. Everything seemed to have a dimmer switch, and someone had knocked it down a notch. “I feel it Ian, but it feels…different? Lighter?”

Ian closed his eyes and did as Mickey did. He searched for that feeling, that buzz that linked them together. It wasn’t hard to find. It was like a breath of fresh air, the smell of rain, the feel of the sun after a long winter. Natural, beautiful. 

But Mickey was right. Something was….off. The feeling was as strong as it normally was, but it was hard to see it now. Like looking through fog or smoke, steam. Something that made it lighter really. Weaker.

“What’s happening?” Mickey didn’t recognize his voice. It sounded soft, too soft. Quiet and scared and he hated it. He hated feeling like that. Like he had no control. 

Then his heart pulsed. First once, then twice. Skipping a beat, every third beat it jumped one. With each beat, each pulse, a flash of pain entered his heart. Just enough to make him flinch and then it was gone. Gone long enough to make him relax before it repeated.

“Shit.” He held his chest, hoping the pressure would help.

“Baby,” Ian moved closer.

“Ian, what’s happening?” he asked again, his voice a notch higher.

Ian cupped his face with one hand and laid his other one over Mickey’s hand. “Breathe with me first.”

“Ian—”

“Breathe Mickey,” he breathed in deep and let it out, over and over again until Mickey was doing it with me. “Keep goin baby. Just relax.”

He tried. He really did. Breathing helped. Ian helped. Seeing his face, those eyes, his hands on him. It grounded him. Centered him. The pain receded slowly. 

“There you go.” Ian sighed and pulled Mickey close to rest against his chest. “You can’t do that.” 

Mickey turned his face into Ian’s chest and took breath after breath, getting that familiar smell of Ian and home and happiness, safety. Feeling how warm he still was, hear his heart beating steadily. 

“I’m sorry.” Mickey mumbled, barely whispering. 

Ian closed his eyes. “You just gotta stay calm baby. Okay? Whatever it is, whatever it means, we’ll deal with it.”

Mickey nodded but Ian didn’t sound so confident. He didn’t feel confident. He felt hopeless, helpless. Fucking awful. Deep down, he knew something was wrong. And he knew what it was and why. The closer they got, the more they would see the signs. 

Ian was fading. Slowly. Piece by piece. This was that first piece. 

“I can’t…” Mickey hiccupped, and he didn’t even realize he was crying. Ian’s shirt was damp. “Ian, I can’t…” he couldn’t even say it. All he knew was that he couldn’t do it.

Borrowed time.

Ian said that not too long ago and it was here. Or close, lingering. Waiting for them to be completely happy, only to yank it away at the last minute. 

“Shhh,” Ian sniffled, trying and failing to keep it together. “Just stay here with me okay, right now In this moment, just be with me.” Ian squeezed him tight, praying to whatever, whoever let him be here right now, to just let him stay.

**

As hard as it was to keep going, to keep moving forward after that shit with Ian, Mickey had no choice. He couldn’t have his way, he couldn’t do what he wanted. He wanted to take Ian and lock him up in his room, to bolt the doors and windows and hold him close. To keep him. For always. 

He didn’t. He couldn’t. Not right now.

They stepped into the apartment building that Raines lived at. It was nice. Not quite North Side but not South, that middle class section. As soon as they stepped out of the car, Mickey took hold of Ian’s hand and didn’t let go.

He hadn’t let go since before they left. Mickey didn’t care how it looked, how people would think his behavior odd or weird or crazy even. If he really did have limited time with Ian, he wasn’t going to waste it.

“You come here often?”

Ian nodded as he waited at the security desk for someone to notice them. “A few times. Not often though. It was mostly at mine.”

His place. They were there just this morning. When the world seemed easier. Better. He was happier. Waking up to Ian, being together. Locking the world out. He wanted that again. 

“Mickey…”

The door opened and an older man dressed in a security uniform stepped out and greeted them with a smile. “Howdy, can I help you?”

Ian giggled.

Mickey covered his smile with his hand. “Uh, yeah.” He showed the guy his badge. “I’m detective Milkovich with Chicago PD, I’m here about one of your residence, Zeppelin Raines.”

“Uh, what has he done now?”

His eyebrows rose. “He’s involved in an investigation. I was wondering if I can see your surveillance tapes.”

The guy seemed hesitant. His face set in a hard line. It was clear he didn’t like Raines any more than Mickey did. But this guy took his job seriously and he had certain rules to follow. 

“Do you have a warrant?”

“Do I need one?” Mickey asked but they guy didn’t answer. “Sir, this guy is going to jail for a long time. I need to check and see where he was last Sunday around 4. He says he was here, and this could either help him to hurt him.”

“I really shouldn’t…” he sighed and waved him back. “I knew that kid was trouble from the moment he moved in.”

Mickey let Ian go first, to clear the door so he could shut it. The guard moved to sit at the older computer. “Yeah, I don’t like him either.”

Ian chuckled. “Clearly.”

Mickey smiled, despite his mood. Love was a strange thing. But as strange as it was and as good as Ian was at pretending shit was okay, it wasn’t. Was he really losing Ian? Just like that? There one day, gone the next? How? Why? Can he fix it?

The more he glanced at Ian, ignoring the smile, ignoring the jokes and playfulness, Ian was fading. The colors were dim. His hair, normally a fiery red, now a shade lighter, green eyes also lighter, his skin seemed that pale color past pale, it was wrong. 

The universe, the world…or was it God, was trying to take Ian away from him. Why would a beautiful creature like Ian be placed into his life, to coexist without ever meeting, to find each other in death, to be happy and fall in love, just to have it taken away? Ripped away. Like slicing open his heart and taking out the best piece.

He needed Ian. 

“Baby?” Ian put a hand on his shoulder and Mickey jumped. “Easy, you okay?”

Mickey nodded and tried to give him a smile. “I need to see the footage from last Sunday at around 3:30.” 

The guard nodded and clicked away on the computer and a few images came up. Mickey and Ian leaned closer to get a better look.

“Okay, Sunday at 3:30.”

Mickey ignored him and studied the screen. At exactly 3:32, a cab pulled up to the front entrance and Raines got out carrying a brown paper bag. He paid the driver, took his bag and headed inside.

“Shit.” Mickey backed up and rubbed between his temples. “Does he leave at any point up until 5?”

The guard clicked away on the computer again and Mickey could feel Ian staring at him. He turned and Ian saw and turned away, a blush rising to his cheeks. Ian was trying to be coy and it was fucking amazing. 

The next time Ian glanced at him, Mickey was already staring at him and gave a little wink. Ian’s face blushed red once more, but it was more of a pinkish color now. 

“No, sorry.”

Mickey looked away from Ian, even though he didn’t want to. “No what?”

“You asked if the kid left after and the answer is no. He doesn’t leave again until Tuesday morning at 8.”

Mickey looked at the time code. Raines didn’t leave the apartment at all. “Shit. Okay, thanks.” He tapped the guard on the shoulder and nodded to Ian. They left the office and couldn’t talk again until they were in the hallway. 

“Well, I guess that answers that.” Ian sighed. “So where does that leave us?”

Mickey wasn’t listening, not fully. It all sounded like back ground noise. He was too busy trying to find out what to do about Ian. There had to be a way for to him to stay. 

“Baby?” Ian gripped his jacket and tugged.

Mickey snapped to attention and Ian had his jacket and was giving him an odd look. “Yeah, what?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He lied, moving to the door and back outside. “Did you ask me something?”

Ian stopped him before he moved around to get in the car. “Baby, you can’t think about that right now.”

Mickey scuffed. “No? Why not? It’s the only thing I can think about.”

A woman passed them…him, because she couldn’t see Ian and she gave him a weird look. Ian chuckled but Mickey was in no mood for this. He glared at here, arms held wide. 

“Got a problem lady?” He barked at her. Her eyes widened and she gripped her purse tighter to her chest and walked quicker. “Yeah, you better fuckin run.” 

Ian pushed past him and climbed into the cold car. Mickey not far behind him and he slammed the door closed. “Mick…”

“What?” He snapped. “She needs to mind her own business.” He started the car and turned the heat on and rested his head against the steering wheel. Ian’s hand was welcome as it landed on the back of his neck.

“I need to fix this Ian, we need to.”

Ian stayed quiet for a moment, gently rubbing the back of his neck. “Baby, some shit you can’t fix.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that shit. I won’t believe it.” He turned to look at him. “You can fix anything if you try hard enough. There has to be a way.”

Ian stayed quiet. He didn’t have anything helpful to say.

“I just don’t get it. Why now?” He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm? What happened today that was so important, and jump started this shit?” 

“Maybe it’s just the progress with the case.”

Mickey studied his face. “Then I quit.”

Ian looked over, surprised. “Mick…”

“No, don’t ‘Mick' me Ian. I’m done. I quit.” He meant it. If the case being solved, meant that Ian had to leave then fuck the case. “I won’t do it.”

“Won’t do what?” Ian snapped back 

“I won’t help this shit along Ian. What, you think I’m gonna be in a rush to solve it now? Now that I know you won’t be here at the end of it?”

Ian didn’t answer him and that’s how he knew he was right. Ian knew it too by how focused on the window he was. They sat in silence, unwilling to relent, unwilling to talk and agree that yes, this sucked but they, Mickey, needed to finish the case.

“You said you didn’t want me to solve it.” He said after some time. “When we were talking about hopes. When you told me to have hope. You said you didn’t want me to solve this.”

Ian sat forward in his chair and rubbed over his face with ice cold hands. “I meant what I said about having hope Mickey. I hope I don’t have to leave. And yes, in a way I don’t want you to solve it.”

Mickey threw up his hands.

“But I know you will.” Ian finished and turned to look at him. “You’re going to figure out who did this to me.”

Mickey smiled. “Is that so?”

Ian nodded and moved over, nearly climbing over the center console to kiss him. He gripped his face and kissed him with all he had, all he was, and Mickey clung to him like letting go would mean the end. He swirled his tongue inside, tangling it with Mickey’s and drank his moan down like it was the heaven itself.

Ian pulled back. “You will find out.” He brushed a tear from Mickey’s cheeks. “It’s who you are baby. You help people. And you kick ass.”

Mickey laughed. 

“You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Shut up.” 

“Love you too.” Ian retorted with a smile but when Mickey’s smile slipped, he kissed him again. First the lips, then each cheek, each temple, his nose, his chin, on his forehead. “I will have hope that I can stay, but you have to believe it’ll happen.”

Those soft kisses were enough to make him crumble. The walls around his heart were broken down with each touch of Ian’s lips. Ian said there was no life without hope, yet someone without life had more hope than he did. 

“I don’t want you to go Ian.” Mickey whispered and closed his eyes. His voice sounded like Ian’s. Like a gust of air could sweep it away before anyone heard it.

“I don’t want to go.” Ian put one hand on Mickey’s heart. “Maybe we can look into it, read up on some shit. See if we can make sense of it?”

Mickey nodded quickly, smiling a little even as tears dripped onto his cheeks. “Promise me.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand and put it on his own heart. “I promise baby.”

His phone made them jump as it started ringing. They shared a smile and Mickey grabbed it from his jacket pocket to see that it was Yev. He turned the phone to Ian who only gave him a reassuring smile.

Mickey cleared his throat and answered on the 4th ring. “Hey bud.”

“Hey dad, I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”

That stung a little. “I’ll always answer Yevy, always. You okay?”

“Yes, better than okay. Thank you, for what you did. Bringing him back.” 

Ian held his hand out and Mickey took it and linked their fingers. “Good. I’m happy you’re okay.”

“I wanted to know if you were coming home tonight. Thought maybe we could grab dinner or something?”

Mickey saw Ian nod immediately. Team Yev, all the way. Yev was trying. Not trying to make all that shit go away, but just trying to make it better. Mickey had compromised a shit load to get to this point, Yev was just doing his part to say thank you. Even if that thank you bridge was being built over dinner.

“Yeah sure, I’ll let you know when I’m on the way.” It felt easy to say yes. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to try and fix this, try and work past what had been stolen from them. Taken. Sabotaged. Destroyed. 

“Great! Thanks dad.”

Mickey smiled. “See you later.” He ended the call and Ian moved over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Happy now?”

“Yes, and so are you.” Ian moved back into his seat to look out the window. He was trying not to destroy the good mood that fell into their laps. “Wish I could go.”

“You are.”

Ian shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

Mickey did know. “I want that too.” He thought of something crazy, very crazy. Like sent to a nut house, straight jacket, eating checkers crazy. “You think we should tell him?”

Ian looked over with wide eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“Well, yeah I kinda am. Yev's open minded and shit. Maybe I can tell him, let him know that you’re still here.” 

It was a crazy ass idea. No lie. But Mickey wanted Ian to feel like he belonged there, with him and Yev at home, doing something as simple as eating dinner, because he did belong. As much as any of them did. He wanted his son to see the reason he was so happy. The reason he was more accepting of Amara then he normal would be.

It was all because of Ian. 

“Baby, I don’t think it’ll work how you want it. People aren’t just naturally open to shit like this.” 

“We could show him.” Mickey shot back, getting irritated again. This whole day was just pissin him the fuck off. “Can’t we try? You connected with him before, remember?” 

Ian nodded, he’d nearly forgotten that. So much shit had happened since then, it was easy to forget. “Say we do this, what are you going to say that he’ll believe?”

“I’ll tell him the truth. From the very beginning.” Mickey put the car in drive, headed back towards the South Side. Home Sweet Home. “Then maybe we could show him.”

“Like that Casper shit you keep joking about?” Ian chuckled. “That’s gonna freak him the fuck out.” 

Would it? Was he somehow more open to this shit then the ‘normal' person would be? He hadn’t even known Ian when he was alive. Yev did. Yev believed in hope, in miracles, higher powers, God maybe. Why wouldn’t he be open to the aspect of ghosts? Or spirits? 

“You really think we shouldn’t?” Mickey turned the last corner that would take him to the Gallagher house. 

“Honestly, I have no fucking idea baby. I don’t know if he would believe it, even with my little ghosty tricks.”

Mickey snorted as he parked the car in front of the house. “Ghosty tricks? Sounds like a damn Halloween cereal.”

Ian snorted. “Let’s trademark that shit. Become rich and stay at home and do other ghosty tricks.” Ian winked.

He snorted again. “You corny motherfucker.” Mickey pulled Ian closer as their laughs faded. “Kiss me.”

Ian smiled. “Another good luck kiss?”

Mickey nodded. “I’m gonna need it.” 

Ian licked his lips and brushed his thumb over his cheekbone. “Such a demanding little thing.” 

“Ian—” thankfully, Ian kissed him before he could hound on him for calling him demanding, or little. He was neither. Instead, he focused on how soft Ian’s lips felt against his own. About the sounds of Ian sighing deeply, content just to kiss him. 

They pulled back, sharing a smile and quick, slow nips of their lips. “You ready?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t want this to ruin her.”

“She’s a Gallagher Ian, nothing can beat that.” He ran his finger over the small cut on Ian’s cheekbone, the one that would probably never heal. “She may not be able to handle it all right now, but eventually she will.”

“Yeah, I know. Let’s just get it over with.”

That was all for team spirit. Mickey grabbed the file on the Lishman's and the flash drive containing the footage from the club. If she believed anything, she’d have to see it first-hand.

The house was swimming with life. Even as they walked up to the door, all the lights were on, he could hear music, muffled, so it was probably playing out the back door. 

“I miss this.”

He turned to Ian who just looked up at the house with sorrow, longing. How awful it must feel to have everything you ever wanted, right in front of you but unable to grasp it. 

The current story of their life. 

Mickey offered Ian his arm, Ian took it and gave him a kiss to the cheek. He knocked loud enough to be heard and waited. Minutes ticked by, or maybe hours. Days. Seconds. It all seemed in slow motion now. 

Ian squeezed his arm and laid his head down against his shoulder as the door opened quickly and Lip stood in front of them.

“Mickey.” He smiled and offered his hand.

“Good to see you.” He shook his hand as he thought, Lip pulled him into a hug. Mickey laughed and went with it. “All these hugs, gonna start givin me a complex.”

Lip smiled and pulled back. “This may be weird but it kinda feels like you're family at this point.”

Mickey stopped laughing and just stared at him. That was one hell of a thing to say. “Thanks man, really. It kinda feels like that too.” Ian nuzzled his cheek.

“So, I take it you’re not here for dinner?”

Mickey shook his head. “Oh, wish that I was. But no. I have some new information and haven’t had a moment to call you. But I really wanted to talk to Fiona about Steve.”

Lip rubbed his hand through curly hair. “Yeah, she’s kinda been going crazy over it all. Trying to get ahold of him. I feel like a dick for not sayin anything though.”

“Yeah, I know how that is, trust me.”

Lip stepped aside and swept his arm out. “She’s in the kitchen. Mind if I stay for it?”

“Probably best you do.” He walked in and made sure Ian was through before the door closed. “I may need a witness when she tries to kill me.”

Lip scuffed and lead the way past a room full of Gallagher's watching tv. “You? Just wait til she finds out I knew and didn’t tell her.” 

That was true. He’d never personally met any of the Gallagher’s, except Carl and now Ian, but he knew how they were. Just like the better half of the Milkovich clan. They didn’t like secrets, or outsiders and he was definitely both of those.

The kitchen was a mess. Left over dinner plates and cup scattered everywhere. And there was Fiona, scrubbing and cleaning and swaying lightly along with the music. No real pep or rhythm, just trying to focus on cleaning. A mothers work is ever done. 

“Fiona.” 

Mickey instinctively put Ian behind him, trying to shield him anything bad that was about to go down. Last time he was here, Fiona had kicked him out. 

Fiona turned around and the smile peeled right off her face. “Lip, I thought I told you…”

“Well, tough shit Fiona. Maybe if you actually wanted to help out, I wouldn’t have to do shit behind your back.” Lip snapped back at her. 

Mickey wanted to buy Lip a brother of the year medal. He sure was kickin ass here lately. Standing up to Fiona, beating the shit out of Raines. Helping keep him out of jail for lunging at his captain. Lip was pulling for sainthood.

“Fiona, I know this is some bad shit okay, trust me. I’ve been drowning in it since I got this case.” He took a deep breath when she crossed her arms. “I wish I can play the good guy all the time, but it doesn’t work that way. I need your help.”

“My help?” Fiona laughed. “You just want to put Steve in jail without the real story.”

Shit. Steve…Jimmy, had been in jail. Still kinda was.

“I don’t give a damn about…Steve.” He’d almost messed up and Lip caught it with a quirk of his eyebrow. “It’s not my fault his face came up in my investigation. I’m trying, busting my ass here, to help your brother.”

He was over this. He was over her and her decision to put Jimmy first. Ian tensed at his back and that pissed him off. He didn’t want to tell at her.

“I do want to help him. But I would never sell my family out.”

Lip scuffed, Ian just sniffled, and Mickey rolled his eyes. “Ian is your family Fiona.” He grabbed the file and wiggled it.

“Take it easy on her, please?” 

Ian’s voice was watery, and Mickey instantly calmed himself, only for Ian. “I’ve had this for a while now, been trying to get some answers before I came back here.”

“More lies?”

“Jesus Fi, just shut up and listen!” Lip snapped. 

“The truth. That’s all I’ve come here with. I don’t like bringing bad news but it’s kinda my job.” He set the file down on the messy counter, but she didn’t reach for it. Of course she didn’t. “It won’t bite.”

Fiona glared at him so hard daggers flew from her eyes. 

“Without your help, I was forced to look into your shit. Poke around like a damn creep to find out who Steve was and where I could find him.”

“And?” Fiona's hand swept to the side, annoyed. Angry.

“And, Steve has been boostin cars and helpin you out with the bills. I know this because there is no way you can afford all this with 3 kids.”

“You don’t know anything.” Fiona shot back.

Ian hugged Mickey around the waist, face resting on his shoulder. No amount of calm could make this better. “I know a shit load more than you think.”

He opened the file and showed her a picture of Lloyd Lishman. “This is Doctor Lloyd Lishman. Lives on the North Side with his drunk wife, and two sons. Jimmy, pre-med asshole and his brother chip.”

“Why should I care about them?” Fiona asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“Lloyd, AKA Ned, the married guy who was having an affair with Ian.” That caused her to pause on her smartass mouth and unhelpful comments. “Yeah, one and the same.”

“Mick, please.” Ian whined, kissing his neck, one hand moved to his heart. “Calm down love, please?”

Mickey paused at the term of endearment and it only made his heart beat faster. He dug through the file for the DMV picture of Jimmy. “This is Steve, Fiona. This is the real man you think you know.” He laid down the picture.

Fiona just blinked at it. Eyes wide, watery. Disbelieving. Shocked. Mickey watched as she picked up the picture and brought it closer.

“That is Jimmy Lishman, Lloyd’s son. Jimmy is Steve Fiona.” He sighed, beyond tired and hurting. Ian kept rubbing over his chest, and it helped, but pain still managed to weasel through.

Fiona opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She looked at the picture again and again, hoping it would change. “I don’t understand.”

“He lied to you Fiona. He’s not who he says he is.” Lip stepped forward and took the picture. “And he knew about Ned, uh, this Mister Lishman and Ian. He knew Fiona.”

She looked at Mickey. “Is this true? He knew about this Ned guy?”

Mickey nodded sadly. “His mother suspected the husband of cheating and sent Jimmy to some recon. He found Ian with his dad at the hotel.”

“I don’t understand.” Fiona looked through the array of photos. “His reaction seemed…so real.”

“I know.” He stepped forward. “The reason he hasn’t gotten back to you is because I arrested him for Ian’s murder.”

“No. Steve, Jimmy may be a lot of things Mickey, but he loved Ian like family. I can’t believe that he would do this.”

“I don’t think so either.” He sighed and with a nod from Ian, he continued. “He told me that Ian was threatening to expose the affair to the wife. That has yet to be confirmed but it gives Lloyd Lishman motive to go after Ian.”

Fiona turned back to him, eyes wide. The coffee cup she had in her had forgotten. “He gave up his dad?”

“Holy shit.” Lip added.

“Not exactly, but he gave us a new suspect. Raines has officially been cleared.”

Both sets of eyes landed on him. Lip didn’t seem surprised. He’d always said too much shit pointed to Raines. Like it was being set up to make it look like him and with his back ground, it wouldn’t be a stretch.

“You’re sure?” Fiona crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I have him at his apartment before time of death and for 2 days after. He didn’t do it.”

Ian was still pressed against his back and Mickey leaned into him as a wave of exhaustion powered over him. Ian kissed the back of his ear and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep. 

“Just a little longer baby and we can go home.”

We. Home. Him and Ian. That sounded fantastic. Mickey opened his eyes and tried to get back into the conversation. “Right now, Jimmy’s dad is my prime suspect. But Jimmy has lied to me before and I don’t want him tipping the old man off, so I have him holed up in a hotel until I can scoop up the dad.”

“Can I talk to him? Please? I really just need to hear about this from him.” 

Fiona was begging him, and Mickey watched Lip shake his head no. He didn’t think it was a good idea. Would Fiona really still take Jimmy’s side on this? 

“Mick, it’s probably not a good idea.”

Shit, even Ian thought it was a bad idea. “Fiona, I’m really not supposed to…” her eyes, like a damn kicked puppy dog. Soft and sweet and innocent, naïve. “Look, I will see what I can do after I get back, but I can’t promise anything.”

Fiona smiled and flung herself at him. “Thank you!”

Damn his bleeding heart. Damn Ian for making him soft, for making him care. Making him feel. Mickey hugged her back, arms locked tight around her back. He felt Ian move just his hand and reach out towards Fiona. He held his breath, Ian was attempting to connect with her, and he could feel his hot, shaking breath at his neck. 

Trembling. 

Ian’s hand passed right through her. No connection, not even enough force to ruffle her hair as Ian exhaled. Not even touching him and trying to connect with her was enough. Ian just couldn’t and his fucking heart hurt as he let out a shaking breath.

Fiona pulled back and he immediately dropped his hands to reach back and touch Ian without it being obvious. He was a fucking mess.

“Mick….” Ian’s voice cracked and he clung to Mickey’s back like he was about to float away. 

“Thank you so much Mickey.” Fiona leaned back and wiped the tears off her face. 

“Don’t thank me yet.” His smile was less than convincing, and Lip gave him a concerned look.

“Hey, you okay man?”

Mickey nodded and Ian squeezed him tighter, crying into the crook of his neck. His body absorbed the tremors from him crying, making it seem like he was the one who was shaking.

“Just a long day is all.”

“You wanna stay? I can heat you up some left overs?” Fiona asked with watery smile and gestured to the counter full of food.

Family. Warmth. Home. That invite was full of all those things. It made him smile, which made Lip and Fiona smile. “Normally, I’d never turn down an invite, but I got Yevy waitin for me. Don’t wanna miss it.”

“Oh, of course not.” Fiona smiled. “Maybe some other time.”

Ian had gone silent behind him. No longer shaking or crying. Not doing much of anything aside from taking shallow breaths and the soft stroke of his hand on his chest.

“Definitely another time.” Lip moved into the hallway, ready to lead him out when Fiona spoke up.

“Oh, hold on a sec. I have something for Yev.” Fiona moved to the cluttered table full of unpaid bills, unopened mail, a case of pictures and dug around until she found the stack she was looking for.

Mickey watched as she turned with a stack of pictures and walked back to him. Although she sported a smile, it was sad and thoughtful, and she was crying again.

“Uh, I was just going through old picture of Ian and I found these.” She chuckled. “It feels like I’ve never seen them before.” She offered him the stack.

Mickey was proud that his hand didn’t shake as much as he thought it would. He grabbed them and looked at them. The first picture made it hard to breathe. It was Ian and Yev. Smiling, happy and together. Arms playfully thrown over each other’s shoulders. 

“Fuck.” He whispered and moved to the next one. Ian was back to hovering close behind him, trying to get a look and when he did, his breath hitched. 

A basketball game. Old school street ball. Just a bunch of kids in baggy basketball shorts, shirtless and red from the summer sun. He could see Yev and Ian on the same team, faces drawn up in concentration. 

A few more. Some at the pool, over crowded with the entire South Side. Mickey could spot Carl on Ian’s shoulders, Yev on Kevin’s shoulders. Debbie on Lip's, Fiona on Jimmy’s. Playing chicken.

Ian gave a watery laugh. “I remember that day.”

“I remember that day.” Fiona smiled.

For a moment, they thought Fiona heard Ian, until she kept talking like nothing happened. Just her thinking the same thing her brother was. Remembering. 

“We all got so sun burnt, we looked like we belonged in the damn burn unit.” Fiona sniffled. “That was this past summer. Only four months ago we were happy, together.”

Mickey heard Lip clear his throat and he knew he was crying. He didn’t even need to turn around. “Everyone looks so happy.”

“Fuck!” Ian screamed at the top of his lungs which was hardly louder than a raised voice.

Mickey flinched and gripped Ian’s leg. They were incredible pictures. But heart breaking because of what was gone. What was missing. Because of Ian.

“I know Yev’s been having a tough time lately, so I thought he might like to have these.” 

Now Mickey was the one lurching forward to trap Fiona in a hug. She seem startled for half a second but latched onto him quickly. He gave himself a minute to mourn. To feel. Even to cry. He let someone, someone who wasn’t his son, support him. 

Fiona had a hand on the back of his head and when he squeezed tighter, she moved her fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry Mickey. I’m sorry for before. That I didn’t, that I wouldn’t believe you.” A sob was ripped from the center of her chest. “I’m sorry that I didn’t help him.”

Mickey nodded and just held on. “If there was a way to fix this, to bring him back, I would.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath, not quite able to keep her emotions in check. “And I know you miss him.”

Mickey opened his eyes and saw Ian standing behind Fiona, looking positively wrecked. That ugly cry, the one that Jimmy had that first day, Ian had it. Tears, puffy eyes, snot, flushed cheeks. All of it. 

He held his hand out, happy his body blocked the view from Lip, and Ian came to him, linking their fingers as he moved closer to Fiona. 

“I miss him so fucking much.” Mickey admitted, finally. He said it once before, back before this became so personal for him. And he meant it more now than he did then. Even having Ian with him all day, all the time. He missed him.

“I love you baby.” Ian whispered and moved his arm forward to brush Mickey’s hair from his face.

He didn’t want to, but he pulled back. Cheeks damp with tears and Fiona cupped his face and dried them away. Like a mom would. Like family. Mickey smiled and laid his hands on hers for a moment before he pulled back.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure Ian’s taken care of. Okay?” He made sure he had the pictures and the Lishman file and backed away. “Thanks Fiona.”

“Mickey?”

He was just about to turn the corner, Ian attached to his left arm, when he stopped and turned.

“Just…thank you. And you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled, afraid the water works would start again and followed Lip to the front door. They stepped out and Lip stayed in the doorway. “Well, I don’t know if that was the best case scenario or not.”

“It was the best she could offer.” 

Mickey noticed how Ian moved closer to Lip, off to his right side. Ian had this look on his face. Ian was going to try and touch him. 

“So, you don’t think it was Jimmy? Or were you just sayin that for her?”

Mickey looked back to Lip. “I think he is still hiding something for damn sure. But honestly, I don’t think Jimmy has the balls to do something like that.”

Ian extended his arm, hand literally hovering over Lip's shoulder. He seemed to be holding his breath. Mickey was too. Each time his hand lowered an inch, his heart pulsed. Not in pain, but anticipation. Hope. He fucking hoped this would work.

“So where to from her—” 

Lip was cut off when Ian’s hand firmly landed on his shoulder. Everyone jumped. Ian took his hand back like something bit it, Mickey also jumped but was smiling, trying to cover it up with his hand and Lip looked positively horrified.

The connection lasted a shorter amount of time then Yev's did. But it was there. 

Lip turned, eyes wide, hand moving to touch his shoulder. “The fuck!” He spun in a circle, trying to find whoever it was. “The fuck was that?”

Mickey looked at Ian who was like the sun. Smiling. He was fucking glowing, beautiful. Bright and happy and crying and every other emotion he couldn’t name. 

“What was what?” Mickey smiled. 

Lip looked over and pointed. “Something, someone touched my shoulder.”

Ian chuckled. He tried to do it again but nothing, just his hand moving through Lip's form. Maybe it was just luck, maybe it was something else altogether. But it was what Ian needed in that moment.

“I don’t know Lip, guardian angel maybe?” He quirked an eyebrow when Lip gave him a look. “I’m serious man, that shit is real.”

“That remains to be seen Mick. So, see you later? Call me sometime huh?”

Ian snorted and Mickey had to smile. “Tryin to get my number Gallagher?” Lip laughed and Mickey extended his hand again. “See you later.”

Lip nodded and watched him go. “Later man.”

Mickey hoped into the car and waited for Ian to go around before heading to the apartment. “Well, what did you make of all that?” He said after Ian hadn’t brought it up. 

Ian sighed and leaned the seat all the way back. “I think I need a damn rule book Mick. It sucks.” He was whining and he knew it. “I can do everything with you, I touched Yev that one time, but it was in a stressful situation and he couldn’t hear me. Now I can’t even connect with my sister, but I can with Lip? It’s fucking confusing.”

Mickey parked the car in his spot and turned to Ian. “Maybe it depends on the person and situation. Yev needed you to connect. You wanted to with Fiona, but I wasn’t surprised when you didn’t. She hasn’t exactly been on Team Ian. But Lip has.”

Ian removed the arm he tossed over his face to look at Mickey.

And there it was again. Ian looking the same…but different. He saw it more each time he looked at him. It was only a matter of time before there would be nothing left. 

“You are close with Lip, even like this. He’s been about you this whole time so maybe that had something to do with it.”

Ian nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” 

“How about we take a look online later?” Ian smiled shyly at him. “Maybe after dinner, we can try and see if anything make sense.”

Ian leaned over and nuzzled their noses together. “You really are too good to me Mick.”

Mickey smiled and brushed dull red hair back. “Anything for you Ian, you know that.” He brought Ian close for a kiss, light and sweet. “Come on, let’s go spend some time with Yev.”

Ian grinned as they stepped out. “I was thinkin about what you mentioned earlier.” Mickey’s eyebrows rose as they walked into the building. “About telling Yev.”

Mickey couldn’t hide his surprise quick enough. “Oh, really? Why the change?”

“I don’t know. I guess it would be nice to see him too. Maybe it’ll make it easier on you if someone else knew.” He shrugged.

“Ian, you don’t need to worry about me.” Mickey stopped them just before the doorway. “I would love for Yev to know, fuck, for the entire world to know. But if you don’t think it’s a good idea then I get it.”

“Maybe we just start slow. Ask him about that day I touched him. See if he even remembers.”

“Not a bad place to start.” He cupped Ian’s face and moved to kiss him. “Come on, let’s not think about all that shit for a while. Let’s just go be a family, yeah?”

Ian grinned, feeling all emotional again. “Family huh?”

Mickey stuck his hand out and waited for Ian to do the same and linked them. “Family Ian"


	16. Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, the feels....ALL the feels...

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 16- Souls

Dinner with Yev was a little awkward. From the moment Mickey stepped inside to see Yev in the kitchen, they had what he could assume was a stare down. Nothing mean or violent. Just...trying to know each other again. He was see Yev in an entirely new light. More like a man then a 16 year old boy. 

After a moment, Mickey was the first to turn away. He shrugged off his coat and moved forward, hugging Yev tightly just because he wanted to. Yev seemed a little taken back but responded and hugged him just as hard, and the standoff was broken.

Ian settled at the table. Relaxed with a smile on his face as he watched them move around like little chess pieces. His smile only grew as they each took a seat beside him and Mickey’s hand slipped under the table to rest on his thigh.

“So, any progress in Ian’s case?” Yev asked before he continued to eat, glancing hopefully at his dad.

Mickey nodded. “A few things have opened up. Gives us…” He glanced at Ian who smiled at the slip up, “gives me a few new suspects, more evidence. You know how it goes.”

Yev nodded. “Things have been a little tense at their house. I don’t think Fiona likes Lip being there.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. Ian the same. “Really? I figured she’d be happy for the extra support.”

Ian was quiet beside them. No longer smiling.

Mickey knew how hard it was to be around family who didn’t support you. He lived half his life with those people. Finding family in a few people, Svetlana for one. It didn’t matter how much shit they’d been through, she was a bad ass bitch who had his back no matter what. Yev too, more so each year. And Amara. Well…up until recently. 

Now Ian was forced to hear about his family not being on the same page about something so important. Him. And Mickey couldn’t do anything to help with that.

“I think she was, at first. But lately they haven’t agreed on anything. It kinda sucks.”

Mickey nodded and squeezed Ian’s thigh. “Yeah, losing someone like that…it does shit to you. It beats you down and it’s up to you to pull yourself together. Fiona just hasn’t gotten there yet.”

They were silent for the rest of the time. Nothing awkward like before but comfortable. Just enjoying the small moments they could steal. Mickey leaned back, belly full and the soft smile that came to his face is one that had been missing for a while. Family. Home. Yev and Ian.

“Hey dad?” Yev spoke after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Uh…do you think it’s possible for someone to, I don’t know, stick around after they die?” Yev asked quietly, sounding and feeling like a fool.

What the fuck? 

Mickey looked at Ian with his mouth hanging wide open, utterly shocked by this strange ass turn of events. What were the odds that he and Ian had been talking about this same shit, only to have Yev just come out and ask? Ian sat beside him, looking just as shocked as he did.

“Um…uh, like a ghost?” Mickey stuttered as he leaned forward, unable to hide his shock.

Yev shook his head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Yev went to get up but Mickey put his hand on Yev’s shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, it’s not stupid. Just sit down, yeah?”

Yev hesitated but took his seat back and rubbed his face. “I feel like an idiot for even asking but it’s buggin the fuck outta me.”

Mickey took a deep breath and tried like hell to keep from getting too excited about where this could end up. “Okay, let’s just start at the beginning? What exactly has been buggin you?”

“He felt it Mick. I don’t know how exactly but he fuckin felt it.” Ian smiled and leaned closer.

Yev had felt it. 

“That day at the precinct.” Yev sighed. “Um, we never talked about it but when I got there…it was like something was trying to, I don’t know, connect with me? Maybe. I don’t know if that’s the right word.”

Fuck yes!! Mickey shouted inside, doin a fuckin happy dance way too early. 

“Did you feel something or hear something maybe?”

Yev nodded. “I felt it the second I walked in, like a blast of cold air but I just figured it was the door being open. But it hit me like I ran into a wall.”

Ian squirmed in his seat. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

“Did it freak you out?” Mickey asked carefully, knowingly. He had been freaked the fuck out the second he saw Ian. It seemed normal now, but that first time was scary. “The feeling, did it freak you out?”

Yev shook his head. “I just shook it off. It didn’t feel like anything really.” He touched his left shoulder. “I went to your desk but on the way, I felt…no I could have sworn…”

Both Ian and Mickey leaned forward, as if somehow that might urge Yev to spill the rest quickly. “Sworn what?”

Yev gave a tired laugh. “You’re gonna think I’m off my fuckin rocker…” he picked at a nonexistent spot on the table. “but I heard Ian, dad. Talking, no, more like whispering to me. I could hardly hear him, but it was him.”

Mickey let out a deep breath. Somewhere inside him, his entire…soul, aura, whatever you want to call it, took a deep breath of relief. He wasn’t alone. Someone else, his own son could feel Ian too, could hear him. He wasn’t alone.

“What did he say?” Mickey asked and Ian gripped his hand tightly.

“You believe me?” Yev asked, eyes wide, disbelieving. 

“I do.” He smiled. “What did he say?”

“Uh, he told me where you were. His voice kept fading in and out and I knew I was fucking imagining it. But he told me where to find you.”

Mickey glanced at Ian, who wasn’t looking at him. Ian had saved him. He knew this. But up until now, no one else did. Now Yev knew and it just brought an overwhelming flood of emotion into him. 

“Baby, please don’t cry.” Ian cupped his face and wiped a tear away.

Mickey breathed in deep, trying to keep his voice from shaking. And Yev was looking at him with watery blue eyes. “Was that the only time?”

Yev waited for a second as his dad tried his hardest not to cry. It was an odd thing to see. His dad never cried. Ever. He couldn’t think of a single time where he cried. “No, uh, it happened again when I was there about Nick.”

Ian wiped his own eyes and reached out towards Yev. Maybe it was all the emotions or that he wasn’t focused enough, but his hand passed through him. “Focus….just focus.”

Mickey turned away and left Ian to concentrate. That time with Amara had been when Ian as able to touch Yev. It only happened once but he would never forget it. Ian either. “What happened that time?”

Yev narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you seem freaked out about this? Why aren’t you callin me crazy, telling me shit like that ain’t real?”

Ian tried again, his time when he moved, the air moved with him. Just enough to make a piece of Yev’s blonde hair move. “Yes!” Ian smiled and closed his eyes. “I’m here Yevy, just focus.”

Excitement thrummed through him. Yev was freaking out because he wasn’t freaking out. Not at all. He already had his moment, everything after that was a blessing, a smile. Sunshine and rainbows and all that gay shit. 

“I just believe you. Just keep tellin me about it and I’ll share after, okay?” 

Yev nodded. “After I hit you, when you grabbed me, I felt it that time. I was half out of it, but I felt someone grab my hand.”

Mickey nodded. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

“It wasn’t. You had my wrists dad and the hand that grabbed mine was cooler. It was Ian dad. I fucking swear that it was.”

Mickey stood and walked to where he tossed his jacket and reached into the breast pocket for the pictures and walked back. “Fiona wanted you to have these.”

“Dad, can it wait? I really need to talk about thi—”

Mickey put the pictures in front of him and Yev stopped talking. Doing what he did and staring at them like it was the cure for cancer. “We are talking about this, those are included.”

Yev touched the first picture of him and Ian together. “It was him dad. I know it was. I don’t get how, but it was.”

Ian reached out again, face set in a stern line of concentration. He was about to have a damn seizure because of it. Just like when he whispered to Yev. It took every ounce of energy he had to make that happen. 

“I know Yev. I believe you.” Mickey took his seat again, his lip twitching into a smile as Ian managed to ruffle another part of Yev’s hair.

Yev jumped and turned to the side, seeing nothing but he felt his hair move. “See?!” he moved his hand through the spot of cold air. “It’s colder here and my hair just fucking moved.”

Ian laughed but it was short by an ache in his chest. He couldn’t get the grimace off his face quick enough. Mickey saw it. “Baby, I’m fine.”

Mickey clenched his jaw. Whatever this was, Ian trying too hard was causing him pain. He shook his head, trying to get Ian to stop. That same ache Ian must have felt sprung up in his own chest, nearly knocking him out of his chair. 

“Fuck!” he breathed in deep, but it came out a shudder, broken, painful.

“Dad?”

“Baby take it easy. Please. I’m sorry.” Ian begged and moved closer to wrap one arm around Mickey’s shoulders while the other covered his heart. “I’m done okay? No more pushing. Mick I’m sorry.”

He leaned his head against Ian’s and tried to calm down. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Just hurts a little, that’s all.”

Ian was whispering into his ear. Soft things. Lovely things. Them things. How much he loved him and how he made him feel. Alive and happy. So fucking happy. Mickey listened to each word, each time Ian said ‘love’ the pain lessened. 

“Shit. Maybe I need to call an ambulance?” Yev dug into his pocket for his phone.

“No Yev, it’s not that bad. It happens sometimes when I get too worked up.” He watched Yev hesitate. “Really, just gimme a sec to breathe.”

“You’re taking your meds, right?” 

Mickey nodded. Ian hounded him each time he tried to push them back for later. But that no stress thing his doctor mentioned was not happening. 

“Yeah, it just happens. Don’t worry.” He smiled and Yev stood to go into the kitchen, he turned to kiss Ian’s temple. “M' fine Ian. Just take it easy, yeah?”

Ian snuggled, unable to stop touching him. “I’m done, promise. I don’t want that shit to happen again.”

Mickey shook his head. “Never stop trying Ian. Just take breaks maybe.” He chuckled and kissed Ian quickly once more just before Yev returned with a glass of water. “Thanks.”

Yev nodded and quietly flipped through the pictures. “I miss him dad. I didn’t even know him that well. These pictures, just a few shots taken when he was around.”

“Yev, those are important moments. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t know his every secret. You knew him, it’s okay to miss him.”

Ian kissed the side of Mickey’s neck. “I wonder if he’ll be mad…you know, about us. I guess that only matters if you tell him.” Ian shook his head. “I don’t want him to hurt because of it.”

Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. Yev said he had a little crush before. They even talked about it some. But the fact was, Ian rejected him because he was too young. Ian said maybe if he was older…well, Mickey was the version Ian was mentioning. Older, no boyfriend. Ian called them both beautiful. 

Would Yev be mad? If…and that’s a big if, if he were to reveal the extent of their relationship? He wasn’t just friends with Ian, it wasn’t just a strange connection between the living and the dead. They were involved, in every sense of that word.

Love. Sex. Their souls melted together. Ian was here for him. His heart beat, for him. They were in love. 

How did he tell Yev that? How did Yev hear that? 

“You said after I told you, that you’d tell me.” Yev crossed his arms. “Now you gotta keep up your side of it.”

Ian chuckled. “My, my. He really is your son.”

Mickey elbowed him and Ian only chuckled again. Now that the pain was gone for the most part, it was easier to laugh and joke about it. “Okay, you said you were afraid you’d sound crazy, well, now I’m worried.”

Yev frowned. “Okay, but I think I trumped whatever you have to say.”

Mickey chuckled. “Don’t be so sure about that kid. So, let me just say this, at the end of this, if you think I lost my shit, just remember I took my pain meds about an hour ago.”

Ian chuckled. “You little fucker.”

“Okay?...” Yev trailed off.

“So, when you decided I’m nuts, I’m gonna blame my pain meds and you’re gonna end up lookin stupid.”

Yev scuffed, laughing lightly. “Fine. You warned me.”

Mickey nodded. They had their agreement and his backup plan if this failed. “Okay, you remember at the office when we were talking about Ian and I kinda just ran off?”

Yev nodded.

Mickey took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I saw him Yevy. Ian. He ran down the damn hallway and when I went after him, he was gone.” 

Yev just stared at him.

“I thought I was out of my damn mind Yev. I still kinda think I am. I was losing it. But it happened again when I was with Amara.” Just that name brought discomfort between them. But this wasn’t about him.

“Were you scared?” Yev asked. 

Mickey nodded. “At first. I was afraid of what it meant. Or if it was real. It made me question everything.”

“Is this real?” Yev leaned forward, eyes wide. “Please tell me that you’re not just humoring me.”

Mickey smiled. “You know I don’t do that Yev. Not even to you.” He gave Ian his own little private smile and Ian nuzzled his cheek. 

“What did he do to freak you out?” 

“The first time I saw him, it was more of a flash. He was gone before I had time to process. But the second time, I was going to the Gallagher’s to tell them.” That day felt like years had passed. “He just appeared in the back seat. I saw him in the mirror but when I turned, he was gone.”

Yev’s eyes were wide. Wider. “He just left?”

“No exactly.” He chuckled. “I could only see him in the mirror. Even when…Amara ran his hand over him, it just went through. But I could feel the cold air you mentioned.”

Yev shivered.

“He leaned forward and told me to go meet his family.” Ian snorted. “Freaked me the fuck out when he got close.”

“Did he touch you?”

Mickey shivered this time. For an entirely different reason. Ian touching him was just…fuck. He knew exactly what it was. It was fire. It was magic. It was everything. It really only happened the whole way, one time and he was reminded of it right this moment.

“What are you thinking baby?” Ian whispered against his ear, moving as close as he once was. “You gonna answer him? Hmmm? Did I touch you?”

Mickey swallowed past his groan. This was not the fucking time. But they NEVER had time. It was never the right time and Ian was stealing the time he could.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “No, he didn’t. Um, he just kinda left until I was about to take Fiona to see him. He didn’t know where he was at first.”

Yev stood and started to pace around, running his hands through his hair. “Okay, before we go any further, can you tell me straight up? Like right now. In under 10 words? I need to let it sink in before we go into any more details.”

“Just tell him Mick.” Ian dropped the sex talk. He'd save it for later. That last bit was just the heat of the moment type thing. 

Mickey nodded. “Ian is dead Yev,” he paused to really let that sink in. “But he’s not gone. He’s still here. Call it a ghost or a spirit, but he’s here.”

Yev stopped pacing. Unable to fully believe what his dad was saying. Ian was dead. Not gone. Ghost. Spirit. Yes, he’d heard all that. But how did he know for sure? “Not that I don t believe you, because I do, but I don’t suppose there is any way to prove it?”

Mickey looked at Ian out of the corner of his eye. Proving anything right now would probably be a little painful. Was it worth it? He would willing suffer the worst pain imaginable, and with a smile no less, if it were to help Ian. Ian knew the risks. But it was worth it.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“If you can’t then all this talk is really just…” he shook his head, sad and disappointed, “it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Baby, we have to know.”

He knew that. And it was probably going to hurt. “Okay, yes. I can prove it. Just don’t freak out okay?” He pegged him with a hard look. “It’s gonna fucking hurt but it’ll be worth it.”

“Why would it hurt?” 

“Cuz Ian is connected to me somehow. Look, it’s fucking complicated and falls under the 'anything else' category. So, just…after.”

Yev nodded. “Okay, do I need to do anything?”

“First of all sit the fuck down, all that pacing shit is making me nervous.” 

Yev smiled but took a seat. “Anything else?”

“Just try and think of him, yeah?”

“Anything specific?”

“Tell him to think about that time at the pool. From the picture?” Ian moved closer to Yev. “I will too and maybe that’ll make it easier?”

“Uh, try to think about that time at the pool.” He was trying not to think about how much this was going to hurt or if it put him back in the hospital. 

“The pool.” Yev smiled and flipped to the picture. “And?”

Ian was sitting next to Yev and gave him a nod. “Just keep an open mind bud.” 

“Fuck. Okay.”

Mickey sat back and watched. Yev had his eyes open but he was staring down at the picture, trying to relive that day. Ian also looked focused, eyebrows creased, lips in a thin line with his eyes closed. 

The pain was dull, but it was there. Slow, shallow breaths. Somehow, closing your eyes helped but he wanted to watch, he needed to see if it worked. 

“It’s cold again.” Yev whispered and looked around.

“I think it’s working Mick.” Ian put a hand over his chest, feeling the pain Mickey felt. “That feeling, the one before, it’s there.”

Mickey smiled. “Just keep goin.” He said to both of them. 

When a hot flash of pain jolted through his heart, he felt them connect. It wasn’t like what he had with Ian, nothing that strong, but Ian was right. It was there. The pain was worth it to feel this. To feel them connecting. 

“Dad…” Yev’s voice shook. 

“It’s okay Yev. Don’t be scared.” Mickey reached out to take his hand but stopped as a new wave of pain came. “Shit…”

“Easy baby.” Ian glanced over quickly. 

Mickey nodded. Deep breath. 

Ian’s hand lightly came down to rest against Yev’s shoulder. Firmly against it. Blue eyes widened when they looked at him, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“Oh my God.” Yev smiled and looked at his shoulder. There was nothing there, nothing he could see, but he could feel a hand there. “Ian?”

Ian chuckled, trying not to full on cry. Yev couldn’t see him, but he could feel him. “Mick.”

Mickey smiled. “Can you feel it?”

Yev put a hand over his mouth, trying not to full out cry, sob and freak out at the same time. “Ian…” he hiccupped, unable to help it. 

“I’m here Yevy.” Ian smiled, happy tears slowly running down his cheeks. 

“Can you hear him?”

Yev shook his head and lifted his own hand, noticing how bad it was shaking, and gently laid it on top of Ian’s. It felt like a hand. A solid, cold hand. “No, but I can feel him.”

Mickey hissed and the pain was starting to increase. “Keep thinking of that day. Maybe it’ll work.” Deep breath. 

Ian focused too, trying not to push it but Mickey didn’t say stop yet. He thought about that day. About how happy he was. How happy Yev had been. His whole family. “Yev, can you hear me?”

Yev jumped, eyes wide. “Holy shit…yes! I can hear you!” he turned to his dad. “I can hear him. Dad…” he saw his dad with both eyes closed, trying to breathe. “What’s wrong?”

Ian noticed too and took his hand back, making Yev’s fall to the table. The connection broke and he moved quickly next to Mickey. “Easy baby. You did good.” He rubbed his chest, feeling it palpitate under his hand. “Focus on me Mick. On us. On our connection. Okay?” 

Mickey nodded and leaned over into Ian’s arms. He thought about them. Their kisses, hand holding, their shower. Being together. Touching, always touching. 

“Dad!” Yev moved to sit next to him.

Mickey tried to play off the pain for Yev’s sake. But the second Yev touched his arm, everything changed. Yev’s eyes grew wide and he was looking past him…to Ian. Ian noticed the change and looked up to see Yev looking right at him. There was no mistake. Yev saw him.

“You see him?” Mickey asked. 

Yev nodded. “He’s blurry.” He kept one hand on his dads arm, the other shakily moved across to Ian’s face. “You’re really here?”

Ian nodded. “I’m here Yev.”

“Oh my God…” his voice was shaky as one finger slowly brushed down Ian’s cheek. His face fuzzed out for a minute, like he lost service, but flashed a few times and came back. “How?”

Mickey smiled and leaned his head against Ian’s shoulder. The pain was fading once again, he had Ian solid on his right side, supporting half his weight, and Yev on his left, one arm around his shoulder. 

If he were to die for some reason, heart complications or something else, he would die happy. Ian and Yev. Together. 

“I’m not really sure Yev, but I learned not to question it too much.” Ian hand moved to brush over the side of his face, sweetly caressing him. Helping him come back to himself. And Yev saw it.

“You love him.” Yev spoke quietly.

Mickey didn’t know who he was talking to in that moment, but it didn’t matter. He and Ian both nodded at the same time. Both giving a little “yeah” in reply. Mickey wouldn’t lie about it. Not to anyone. But Yev didn’t seem upset. Or mad. Yev didn’t call him a traitor, or Ian for not picking him.

“This is just… I can’t believe it.”

Ian flinched, thinking this would be the freak out. Not that he was a ghost, or that he could see and hear him, but because he was in love with his dad.

Yev smiled and gently shoved Ian’s shoulder. “I miss you, asshole.”

Ian laughed, relieved that Yev didn’t seem upset or mad. “Miss you too man. Thanks, for being with my family.”

Yev’s smile slipped a little. Wistful now. “You know I love them. They’re my family too.”

Mickey smiled. “I’m really happy you didn’t freak out.”

“Me too. But I have more questions.”

Ian laughed. “Think it can wait til tomorrow? I should get him to bed.” He rubbed over his chest. “Don’t want to stress his heart again.”

Yev’s eyes widened. “That was you? You did that?”

“No.” Mickey answered quickly.

“Yes” Ian shot back. “I didn’t handle shit very well and left. It just added to much stress.” He rested his head against Mickey’s.

“It was my fault too.” Yev whispered.

“No, it wasn’t Yev.”

“Yes it was dad, that shit….with Nick. And Ian’s case and it was too much.” He let that dreadful feeling pass over him. “I’m sorry.”

Mickey grabbed him behind the neck and pulled him close. “Don’t ever be sorry for loving someone Yev. I know we have been through some shit, but if you love someone, love them. Forever is not guaranteed.”

Ian squeezed tightly.

“You’re leaving?” Yev nearly yelled and grabbed Ian’s arm and his body faded in and out again. “Please don’t leave Ian. You just—I can see you, please don’t go.”

Ian put his hand on Yev’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t you worry about that.” He squeezed Mickey too when he flinched. “I’m not leaving you, or your dad. Okay? It may be hard to connect like this all the time, but I’m always here.”

Mickey turned his face into Ian’s shoulder and breathed deeply. “He’s supposed to be here with us Yev. I won’t let him go.”

Yev looked at them. Together. Pressed close like they didn’t want anything to come between them. “How? What do we have to do to keep him here?”

“I don’t know. I was going to come back and look a little online but—”

“I’ll do it!” Yev blurted and blushed as they both smiled at him. “I can look too.”

Fuck. Mickey just might cry right now. How could he ever be worried about what Yev would think? Yev was just happy Ian was here, talking, smiling. It didn’t matter that Ian didn’t like Yev like that, it didn’t matter at all and now Yev wanted to help. To make sure Ian stayed. 

“Thanks bud. I’m sure you’ll have more luck than me.” They laughed with him and he just shook his head. “It’s late. We all need to get some sleep. This case isn’t over yet and you still have school.”

Yev nodded. “Ian?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, are you…you’re gonna stay, right?”

Ian smiled. “Damn right.” That got Yev to smile. “I’m goin wherever he does.”

Mickey smiled at that. “He’s kinda like Patrick Swayze. Follows me around like a puppy, it’s cute.”

Ian snorted. “Asshole. That makes you Demi Moore.” 

Mickey huffed. “The fuck it does.”

Yev couldn’t stop smiling. “Would it be weird to get a hug?” Yev asked and bit his lip. It was weird but how else do you say a temporary goodbye with a ghost?

“It’s not weird at all kid. Just make sure you touch your dad too, I don’t think it’ll work any other way.”

Mickey moved his chair back as Ian stood, keeping his hand on Ian’s thigh and on Yev’s side. “I got both of ya, just hug.”

Ian smiled and opened his arms and Yev just kinda melted into it. His arms around his waist, head against his shoulder. “Don’t worry okay? I’m not leaving.”

Mickey was going to cry. Like, for real. Yev was suddenly 4 again, asking for a hug. Just surrendering all control to that person. Just like he did right now and when he heard Yev sniff, he knew the kid was crying. 

“I’m so sorry Ian. For all this shit.” Yev hugged tighter. It felt like this was goodbye. The one they never got to have.

Ian turned and kissed the side of his hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Thank you Yevy.”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

Ian’s heart ached and by the way Mickey squeezed his thigh, he felt it too. “I promise. It’s gonna be rough, but it’ll be worth it.”

Yev pulled back and wiped his face. He felt stupid. He felt like a kid, but he couldn’t help it. Ian was here. It was better than nothing. He moved back and bent down to hug his dad.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Mickey held him tight. “Thank you for believing. But Yev,” he let him stand up. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“No one would believe me.”

“Nick would.” Ian and Yev looked at him, surprised. “I know you want to, but you can’t tell him. Not until we figure all this shit out.”

Yev nodded.

“Promise me.” 

“I promise.” He smiled and glanced at Ian. He knew the second he let go, he could no longer see him. “See you later, right?”

Ian knocked his fist against Yev’s shoulder. “Count on it.”

Mickey watched Yev move back and reluctantly let go of his arm. He felt the moment their connection was broken. And he missed it. Yev looked grief stricken and mumbled a small goodbye before heading towards his room.

“Fucking hell.”

Ian sighed. “Yeah, well, at least he handled it well.”

Mickey nodded. “Better than we could have hoped for. God, shit always has to be hard.”

Ian scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “This is a good thing baby. I know it’s a lot for him, for us, but it’s good.” 

Mickey turned to look at him, one hand moving to rest against his cheek. Ian turned and kissed it. They didn’t have to be careful here anymore. They didn’t have to jump apart. 

“I love you.”

He said it just because. For no reason and every reason. For being here, for loving him. For being there for Yev. 

Ian leaned forward until their foreheads touched and he was able to breathe again. “I love you too baby. So fucking much.”

Mickey didn’t want to talk anymore. He didn’t want to deal with all the complicated shit. He just wanted a break. He wanted his mind empty. Just a little bit of peace before the next round of shit.

Mickey rubbed their noises together slowly. “I want you.” He breathed, barely a whisper, looking into green eyes…it was all he wanted. 

Ian pressed against his cheek to move him closer, kissing him once. A slow drag of their lips until Mickey gave him that deep sigh. Then another kiss, and another. Mickey’s hands in his hair, whimpering against his lips. 

Mickey easily fell into Ian’s kiss. Giving himself over. He gasped when Ian’s hand slipped down his face, to his chest, then down to slide up under his shirt. 

Ian stood, moving sideways to keep the kiss from breaking. Mickey had his hands on Ian’s jaw holding on, as Ian slowly helped him stand. They kissed slow and deep as Ian lead them down the hall and into his room. 

Mickey was pressed softly against the door as it closed. Nothing compared to what it had been at Ian’s place last night. This was softer, slower, delicate almost. Ian pressed against him, crowding him. Caging him in with his entire body.

“Ian.” Mickey whispered as they pulled apart. 

“What is it baby?” Ian kissed him quickly before he pulled back, just to lean in again for another one. 

Mickey moved his hands down to grab at his shirt and slowly pull it up and off. He buried his head into his chest, slowly kissing him. “I need you.”

Ian smiled and quickly unbuttoned Mickey’s shirt, spreading it to peel off his shoulders. “I’m here baby.”

Mickey walked Ian back, moving his hands up his chest and his arms until they were standing at the end of it. He popped the button on Ian’s jeans and wasted no time slipping them down, kissing down his body as he went. 

God, Mickey couldn’t believe his body. It was fucking perfect. Unreal. Not a single ounce of fat on him. Ian was all hard, defined muscle under smooth, pale skin. 

Ian put hand on the back of his neck as he moved down, kissing at his hips, only inches away from his dick. He swallowed a gasp and didn’t rush this. Mickey was going at his own speed.

“I love your mouth on me.” Ian whispered and pushed his hair back to see blue eyes.

Mickey knelt on the floor and helped Ian step out of his clothes until he stood there naked. As slow and soft as it was moving, Ian was still undeniably hard for him. Leaking and twitching. And so close to his mouth.

“Is that what you want?” Mickey asked as he rubbed his cheek against the thick head. “You want me to suck you?”

Ian couldn’t swallow his moan. He put one under Mickey’s chin to feel his throat each time he swallowed. “I want what you want baby.” Ian brushed Mickey’s hair back so he could see his eyes.

“I want you to tell me Ian.” Mickey quickly licked the tip, pre-come dabbing his tongue. 

Ian’s legs shook, trying hard not to fall back against the bed. “Yes, I want it.” The tip of his dick started to leak with every deep breath Mickey took against him. Ian swiped his thumb over it and watched with hungry eyes as Mickey sucked his thumb into his mouth. “Can I feel your mouth baby?”

Mickey answered by taking the head into his mouth. He kept his eyes focused up, seeing Ian struggle between wanting to close them and keeping them open to watch him. The more he took into his mouth, the further Ian’s eyes slipped closed. 

“Fuck.” Ian shivered when Mickey had more than half in his mouth. Each time he bobbed his head, he could feel his dick in Mickey’s throat, bulging. “So good baby.” He praised as he looked down. “Look at you taking it so good.”

Mickey groaned and popped the button on his own jeans, slowly working them down his body, without stopping. He never expected to have a praise kink but whenever Ian told him how good it was, how good he was, his mind went on a little space adventure. Floating into nothingness. Only surrounded by Ian’s words. 

Ian noticed his dazed out look and it took a moment to realize what it was. He should have been surprised. But he wasn’t. Mickey didn’t need validation for very much. At work, he normally wasn’t thanked for all his hard work. He didn’t get thanked for being a good parent. It made sense that Mickey would need it now. 

“You like that? Hmm? You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Mickey responded with a groan, wiggling until he was kneeling naked on the floor. 

Ian smiled down at him. Looking down the long, smooth, naked length of his back. “You’re so good to me Mickey. Workin so hard to help me,” he ran his thumb under one blue eye, “you work so hard to help everyone.”

Mickey was positively thrumming with pleasure. It felt like every word that dripped from Ian’s mouth, rolled down to his dick. Making it ache, making it wet. He spread his legs further apart and lightly gripped himself. He moaned around Ian’s dick, bobbing his head quicker.

“Fuck!” Ian groaned, his head dropping back for a moment to feel that vibration all the way up his spine. “Now you’re taking care of me, aren’t you? Making me feel so good. So fucking good.” He groaned again, unable to help it. “What about you baby, huh? You feelin good right now?”

Mickey nodded fast. Despite being the one on the giving end, he felt fucking fantastic. His already sore thighs screamed from his position, his knees ached, his dick pulsed, and he loved it. Each time Ian spoke, each ounce of praise, made him feel like was about to come. 

Ian didn’t notice until now, but Mickey’s right arm was slowly moving up and down, stroking himself. “Are you touching yourself?” his eyebrows rose as Mickey gave him innocent but wicked eyes. “Feel good?”

Mickey groaned his answer, twisting his wrist each time he circled the head. It sent a delicious shiver spreading across his back. 

“Maybe I should do it, hmm? Would you like that?” Ian smiled when Mickey nodded again but didn’t pull off. He gripped his chin and held it firm as he pulled away, watching his wet cock slowly slip from Mickey’s pink lips until he was all the way out and bobbing obscenely between them.

“Why’d you stop?” Mickey asked, breathless, face flushed, eyes still locked onto his dick. “I wanted to keep going.” He stuck his tongue out and caught a taste each time it bobbed.

“Goddamn…” he sounded so desperate, even to his own ears. Mickey was so fucking dick hungry it made him ravenous. He grabbed himself and slowly slapped the head fast, barely catching Mickey’s lips each time. “Like that?”

Mickey nodded and pushed his tongue out further, trying to get more. “More.” He mumbled and nearly chased after it.

He was literally slapping his dick against Mickey’s lips and he begged for more. So Ian gave him some. Letting it slip into Mickey’s mouth quickly before he moved it faster, making a wet slapping sound each time it hit those puffy lips. 

“Fuck baby,” Ian trembled, so fucking close it wasn’t even funny. This was escalating quickly. “I bet you’d like if I slapped it against your face,” he gripped his chin again and turned so he had a good look at his flushed cheek, “wouldn’t you?”

“Please Ian,” Mickey begged, not bothering to wipe the extra saliva off his lips. It dripped down between his legs, “do it hard.”

“Yeah?” he bit his lip and gave Mickey’s cheek a hard slap with his cock. Mickey whined. “Like that?” he panted.

Mickey nodded. “Keep goin.”

Ian groaned and rapidly cock slapped Mickey’s cheek, making that loud, wet thumping sound, until it was bright red and streaks of pre-come painted across it. “Fuck, that’s sexy baby.”

“Yeah?” He smirked and jerked his head to the side to quickly suck at the tip to clear it off. “Wanna do the other side?” He turned his face to the other side and challenged Ian with a lift of his eyebrows. 

It was so damn tempting. And the fact that Mickey wanted it, only made him want to do it more. “If I do that side baby,” he took a deep shuddering breath, “if I make both of your cheeks beat red and wet, I’m going to come all over that pretty face.” 

“I want it.” Mickey nuzzled him with his cheek, feeling pre-come the second he moved. “Don’t you want that Ian?” 

“I want to fuck you baby,” he rubbed his dick across that untouched cheek, “I need to be hard and full of come to do that,” he watched Mickey shudder, “full, so I can pump it into you when I fuck you so good you forget your name.”

Mickey tightly squeezed the base of his dick, warding off that oncoming orgasm. Ian’s voice had that growl to it again. The one that made his mind check out and swear to do anything he could to keep his voice like that. “Ian, please.”

“Please what?” Ian growled, panting. Only seconds away from losing it. “Please fuck you, or please come on your face?”

He wanted both. Fuck, he wanted both so goddamn bad. “Fuck me.” His voice almost sounded as deep as Ian’s. Ian’s promise to pump him full of come was one he couldn’t pass up. 

Ian grinned, grabbed Mickey’s hands and helped him stand. As soon as he was in reach, Mickey kissed him. Teeth clashing, mind numbing kissing. Swirling their tongues together as Ian pulled him close so their naked bodies rubbed together.

Mickey ran both hands down Ian’s hard chest, over muscled abs and cut hips, to grip both of their cocks and rubbed them together. “Please Ian,” he mumbled as Ian worked over his bottom lip, “fuck me. Fill me up.” Ian groaned and Mickey tipped his head down and spit against the heads of their dicks, slicking them up. “Pound me until I can’t talk, until I can’t move.”

Ian growled, deep and loud.

Mickey put one finger against his lips, silently telling to keep quiet. “I want it hard and deep, I want your cock slamming into my prostate, making me scream your name.”

Ian was actively pumping his dick against Mickey’s, trapped between tattooed knuckles. “I’m gonna give you everything you need baby. I’m gonna give it to you good.”

“Fuckin prove it.” He growled back, making his eyes meet passionate, nearly angry green eyes. 

Mickey grinned when Ian leaned down and scooped him up, he locked his legs around Ian’s hips, felt his dick press against rock hard abs and groaned while he nipped at Ian’s lips. 

“You are insatiable baby,” Ian spun around and all but flung them both on top of the messy bed.

Mickey groaned deeply, spreading his legs wide as Ian started to roll his hips hard. Ian’s dick slipped between his cheeks, rubbing against him. “We need to hurry Ian.” He reached up and over to grab for the drawer, but his arm wasn’t long enough. 

“So fucking eager,” he ran his tongue over Mickey’s sticky cheek. “My come tastes so much better when it’s on you or in you.”

“Wait til you’re in me before you say shit like that.” Mickey still reached for the drawer and the lube was right inside. “Fuck! Help me get this shit!”

Ian chuckled and moved up the bed, even his arm wasn’t long enough so, he crawled nearly over Mickey’s chest. He felt lips against him and looked down to see Mickey tonging his hips. He smiled down as his fingers closed around the bottle.

Mickey stuck his tongue out as Ian slid back down, licking up his body. “Maybe next time you can fuck my mouth like that, yeah?”

Ian’s body shook as he rose up on his knees and popped the cap, coating two fingers. “Only if you’re good.” He slid one finger in all the way, marveling at how tight and hot he was. 

“Shit…” he closed his eyes as Ian added another one. “M' always good Ian.” 

Ian tilted his head, biting his lip as he watched Mickey grind back against his fingers. Sliding wetly in and out of his tight, perfect hole. Greedily taking his fingers in deep. “I don’t know baby,” he blanked out watching Mickey’s hips swivel, “I think I bring out that naughty side of you.” He moved to nip at Mickey’s pale thigh. “That nasty side.”

Mickey whined as Ian’s fingers brushed against his prostate. “God, just fuck me before I come. I’m so close Ian, it’s right there…”

Ian nodded in full agreement. He wouldn’t last very long at this rate. Mickey was too sexy, too perfect and all his dirty talk was even getting to him. He pulled his fingers out and used them to stroke his dick until he was nice and slick. 

“Tell me how you want it.” He squeezed Mickey’s thighs. “You wanna ride me again, hmm ? Drive me fucking crazy with that ass?” Ian braced his arms on each side of Mickey’s shoulders and hovered over him. Blue eyes widened. “Maybe you want me like this…covering you with my body.”

Mickey tried to pull Ian down, but he was sturdy and didn’t budge. 

Ian moved back, gripped Mickey’s thighs and turned him fast until he was on his belly, face pressed into the bed, moaning for him. 

“Fuck Ian…” Mickey turned his head to the side and gripped the sheets. 

Ian straddled his thighs and rubbed his dick along the crack of his ass. Over and over again. “Maybe like this? Huh baby, gettin in so fucking deep. Hittin it hard and fast. Watchin that ass take every single hit.”

Mickey pushed his hips forward, tangling his dick in the sheets and pushed back, feeling that big dick against him. “Like this. Please Ian, do it like this.” He looked back, face so flushed it was burning . “I need it hard and deep.”

Ian raked his nails down Mickey’s back, watching instant welts appear as he whined. He gripped his hips and pulled them up, so Mickey was on his knees. He brought his hand down hard against his ass.

“Yes! Again…” Mickey begged, moving his ass back and forth. “Spank me Ian.”

Ian spanked that same cheek until it was hot and pink. “Pink and fuckin sexy baby.” He grabbed the lube and added some more to his cock, and his stretched hole. 

Mickey whined and rocked back, his eyes rolling in his head when Ian rubbed against him. He was gone. Almost vacant. Out of his damn mind with pleasure and Ian hadn’t even entered him. 

“Get on me, now.” He demanded this time, grabbing back to hold onto Ian’s thigh. “Fill me up.”

Ian groaned and rubbed against him. He kissed down his back, biting his skin as he slowly started to push in. 

“God…oh God,” Mickey whined, rocking back despite Ian’s firm grip. “Deeper, deeper.”

Ian pulled his hips back and pushed all the way in until Mickey’s ass was in the cradle of his hips. “Shit…oh, shit!” He stayed absolutely still, head pressed against Mickey’s sweating back. When Mickey started to rock, he winced. “Easy love…any of that and I’m done.”

Mickey breathed deeply and stilled his hips. Smiling at the satisfaction he got from Ian’s words and his tone. Totally wrecked. 

Deep breaths didn’t help ease that urgency to come. If anything it magnified it until he could barely breathe. “Fuck, hold on baby. It’s gonna be rough...I can’t, fuck, I just have to move.”

“Want it rough Ian.” Mickey dug his nails into Ian’s thigh.

Ian didn’t hesitate. He pulled back and slammed forward, holding onto his hips so hard he knew it would bruise. He thrust forward, connecting his hips with Mickey’s ass, over and over. “God Mick!”

It was so good. Too good. Ian slammed into him, snapping his hips hard and fast, getting that big dick deep. Mickey gripped the bed, his dick sliding against them with every powerful thrust. 

“So good Ian!” He panted, feeling heat pool into his gut. It was nearly painful, Ian was going deep and hard, just how he needed it. “Fuck!”

Ian moved one hand to grip his hair and turned his face into the pillow. “Quiet baby, don’t want to be heard.”

Mickey bit the pillow, letting it muffle each moan, each whine, each pathetic sound.

Ian grinned at his attempt to keep quiet. It was fun watching him try but ultimately, he was just as loud as before. When Mickey pushed his ass back, meeting each of his thrusts eagerly. 

“That’s it baby, back it up for me.” He growled and watched Mickey fuck himself back. “God…I’m close…” he brought his hand down against Mickey’s ass, slapping it hard.

Mickey tossed the pillow away, unable to breathe as he neared his orgasm. “Shit…'bout to come Ian.” He tried to slide his hand down to grip his dick, but Ian grabbed it.

“Oh no baby, you’re gonna come without it.” Ian moved his leg until one foot was planted on the bed, adding a new, deeper angle. “You can do that for me, can’t ya?”

He was so close it wasn’t going to matter. He pulled his hand back and gripped the sheets. The new angle put Ian’s dick right against his prostate. “Oh god, Fuck. Ian…”

He dropped his head to Mickey's slick back, panting, nearly overheating. “Just like that baby. God, just like that!” he closed his eyes as Mickey slammed his ass back hard, over and over.

Mickey bit the bed as he came, fucking painful, so fucking good. He busted all over the sheets, rocking himself back as Ian continued to pound into him. 

Ian bit his back, just under one of the scars at the center of his back, as he came. He slammed in hard, pumping him full until his eyes closed and he barely thrusted in. They both stopped moving, breathing hard, shaking, sweating. Mickey rested on his knees, chest and face flat to the bed, eyes closed, mouth open. Ian panted hard against his back, kissing and licking his sweat, running his hands over his sides.

“Oh baby,” Ian pushed his face into Mickey’s neck, breathing in deep. Kissing over his ear, “I am so lucky to have you Mick. So fucking lucky.”

Mickey smiled at the praise. Even with the sex over, he still loved it. He still wanted to hear him say it. “Thank you.”

Ian slowly pulled out, making them both whine and ache. He helped Mickey unfold and lay on his back, right in the wet spot. Ian crawled up his body, pausing to lick at the come on his belly. 

“You taste so good.” He tore himself away and up to kiss Mickey, letting him suck on his tongue.

Mickey grinned as they pulled apart. “Shit, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” He brushed Ian’s hair back, sweat slicking his hand.

“You and me both baby.” He closed his eyes. 

“That shit…” he paused, trying to word it right. “The praise and shit, does that bother you?”

Ian pulled back to look at him. “Like during sex or at all?”

He shrugged as much as he could with Ian heavy on top of him. He was a little embarrassed now. Never, like ever, had he wanted to hear those words until Ian said them. He wanted Ian to think he was good, that he was perfect and all that ego stroking bullshit. But not if Ian was just humoring him.

“Do you not want me to?”

“I do,” he answered quickly, blushing at how quick it came out. “Just don’t want it to be weird if you don’t like it.”

Mickey wouldn’t meet his eyes. Ian gripped his chin. “Baby, I wanted to. Not just during sex, but because I like it. I like that you like it.”

“All the time?” He asked, careful not to give so much emotion away. 

Ian nodded. “All the time Mick. Is that okay?” 

Was what okay? What exactly were they talking about? Praise? All the time? Not just for sex. And Mickey wanted it. He wanted to hear Ian say that. 

Mickey nodded and stroked over Ian’s jaw. “I guess I just feel weird. I never wanted that before. With anyone.”

“Because you’re only good for me,” Ian gave that little growl Mickey loved, “right baby?”

Mickey nodded, feeling hot all over again. Feeling happy and sated and over the fucking moon when Ian said it. “Only for you.”

Ian kissed him, swirling his tongue deep inside and Mickey met him with the same amount of need. Hands gripping onto his hair, legs twirled around his own. 

Mickey nuzzled his nose when they broke apart, exhaustion coming over him all at once. All that shit today, all that shit tonight and Ian, he was bone tired. “M' tired.”

Ian nodded and moved to the side before he slipped behind him, snuggling against his ass. “Me too.” He put one knee in between Mickey’s and felt wetness against it. “I should clean you up.”

Mickey held Ian’s arms tighter to his body, one under his head, locking onto his shoulder, the other around his waist. “Don’t want you to move.”

Ian smiled and nipped at his ear. “What if I just move down, hmm? Eat it out again.”

Mickey pushed his ass back. “Don’t fuckin tease. I loved that shit the first time and I’m too tried to go for round two.”

Ian laid down and pulled him closer, tucking his face into his neck. “Suit yourself baby, but don’t get pissy when you wake up and we are glued together.”

Mickey huffed. Ian moving was unappealing but waking up covered in come from hours before wasn’t any better. “Fuckin fine. But if you get me hard again, I ain’t movin while you take care of it.”

Ian grinned and unwound from Mickey’s body to kiss his way down his back to his ass. He lifted Mickey’s leg and pushed it forward. It was already steadily leaking out. “Fuck, I love eating you out.” Ian groaned and dipped his head down. 

Mickey groaned, trying not to thrust back against his tongue. When Ian had his mind set on something, he was relentless. 

**

The flash of cold air that ghosted down his back woke him from a deep, dark, satisfied sleep. He slept like the dead, no pun intended. Mickey groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The room was as dark as the sky outside. It took him a minute to realize that Ian wasn’t warmly pressed against his back anymore. 

He rose up on one elbow to look back…but Ian was right where he left him, one of Ian’s knees between his legs, Ian’s arm around hips and the other tucked under his neck. The only issue was, he couldn’t feel him. At all. Not even with Ian touching him.

Fear took over and he moved as quick as he could, not caring as his body protested. Ian’s arm fell away but it made no sound as it hit the sheets, just like that day when he first went to Ian’s apartment. Mickey knelt naked and studied Ian.

He was breathing. Mickey could see Ian’s chest rise and fall as he slept. Green eyes moved under pale lids, probably dreaming. Mickey let his hand hover over Ian’s sleeping form, and it was as cold as the wind outside. 

A tear fell onto Ian’s chest and Mickey didn’t bother to wipe them away. He put his warm hands on Ian’s pale, cold cheeks and Ian nuzzled into his hand. No sound, no sensations. Not even the scruff that remained on Ian’s chin. 

“Ian?” his voice was a watery, broken, lost sound. He let their heads rest together. “Ian wake up, please.”

Ian didn’t respond. Just kept up that slow, even breathing. 

His lips, damp from crying pressed against Ian’s. He kissed him over and over, crying and trying to talk to him, to bring him back to that edge of nothingness. 

This couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be happening. Mickey couldn’t take it if it was. His heart hurt something awful, clenched tightly, pounding so hard he could taste his pulse. 

“I need you Ian,” he sobbed and stroked over his face with shaking hands, “please baby, come back to me.” 

That connection gave a little spark, nothing visible but Mickey could feel it. That empty, cold feeling he had upon waking was fading. He opened his eyes and stared down at Ian. Feeling came back slowly, first he could hear Ian breathe through his nose, then feel the stubble on Ian’s cheeks against his hands. 

“Baby?” Mickey whispered hopefully.

Ian shifted in the bed and the sheets moved and made a soft sound under him. 

“Mickey.”

He let out the deepest breath of relief and felt that weight get lifted off his heart. The pain lessened when Ian barely cracked open green eyes, not really awake yet.

“M’ here baby.” Mickey smiled and kissed every inch of his face. Ian closed his eyes and curled back onto his side, curling around his legs. “You okay?”

Ian kissed Mickey’s knees as he slowly drifted in that half-awake, half asleep state. “Cold. Tired.”

Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian, pushing one hand into his hair, massaging it, the other running up the length of his back, kissing his shoulder. 

“You need anything?” he asked quietly, trying to control the emotion in his voice. 

Ian nodded and closed his eyes all the way, easily falling back asleep. “You.”

Fuck. That lump in his throat only grew as Ian slowly started that deep breathing. He closed his eyes and rested against his shoulder. Listening to him breathe. Each breath was a blessing. Feeling his chest expanding. He felt the warmth flow back into him, kissing over him like he was sacred. 

“I’m here Ian.” He smoothed red hair back and kissed his ear as he moved back, sliding off the bed as not to wake him. Ian curled into his warm spot, nuzzling into his pillow. Mickey felt like crying again when Ian smiled in his sleep, bringing the pillow as close to his face as he could.

He didn’t want to leave him. He wanted Ian to curl around him as he fell back into blissful sleep. But he didn’t want to waste any time sleeping. He told Ian he would do some research about all this shit, to wade through the bullshit and find a way to keep Ian with him. That’s what he needed to do now.

He pulled the thick blanket to Ian’s chin, kissed his forehead and slipped on the first pair of boxers he found, Ian’s. He pulled on some sweats and looked back at Ian once more before he closed the door.

The light from Yev’s tv made under the door glow but he was probably asleep and wasn’t really in the mood for company. He was in no shape to fake it right now, he couldn’t or wouldn’t put on that brave face and tell Yev it would be okay because he didn’t know if it would be or not. From the way shit was escalating, the chances of anything good happening later on was slim to none. 

He was raw. Emotionally. Mentally. He needed to live in the feeling. To live in the fear. The reality. It was fucking frightening, blindingly scary. It was real and he was determined to find a way to make it better. To kick fear right in the face like he always did. To keep the one man he loved, truly loved, in his life. 

Mickey moved on bare feet into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee, turned on the tv to nearest and probably all bullshit, ghost/paranormal channel and took his laptop into the dimly lit living room. 

It would take a long time, probably the rest of the night to find any answers. The internet was a fickle little bitch and he needed the real answers. None of that Long Island Medium bullshit. He needed to know all about spirits, ghosts, to see what keeps them around, what makes them leave and people who claim to have the same issues. 

As he walked to get his cup of coffee, his phone rang loudly and he answered it quickly, hoping not to wake Ian and Yev. It was too late for Mags to be calling him. “Hey Mags, it’s a little late for house calls.”

“Sorry Mick, but this can’t wait until morning. I shouldn’t even be calling in the first place, I could lose my job.”

She sounded worried, paranoid. “Okay, that’s some serious shit. I’m officially freaking the fuck out. What’s goin on?”

“Is Benson your new partner?”

“Liv? Yeah, or just lending a helping hand. Why?”

“She stopped me before I clocked out with last minute evidence. She said she rushed it back here and needed me to run DNA ASAP.”

He perked up, smiling. He sent Olivia to the Kash & Grab in search of their freezer. He hadn’t had a chance to call and connect with her after leaving Raines' place, but it seems like she found something good.

“Hot damn, she’s on the case for 2 hours and comes up with DNA evidence? She’s incredible!”

“Mick!” Mags snapped, cutting off the praise to the senior detective. 

He stopped smiling. “Jesus, what?”

“She brought me a bag full of bedsheets.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Um what? I sent her on a damn freezer search, and she brings back bedsheets?”

“She didn’t log in any last minute evidence for any freezer. She brought me a bag of sheets. Told me someone had been on them recently and needed me to run it.”

“Mags, it’s too late for games. Just fuckin tell me.”

“Benson labeled them “Gallagher Studio”.”

Holy shit. Olivia went to Ian’s apartment? Fuck, he and Ian were there…rolling all over those sheets.

“Mickey, I found your DNA on those sheets.”

He closed his eyes. Panicking. “Mags…”

“Do not lie to me Mick. I have evidence you were there. If you lie to me, I will tell her what I find.”

“Mags,” he rubbed the side of his head. “It’s, fuck. It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t know what to think. I just know that your DNA is mixed together with the DNA of Ian Gallagher.”

He knew going to Ian’s was a bad fucking idea. But he also didn’t know Benson would go rogue. “I can’t explain without sounding fucking crazy. I just…” he sighed heavily. “I really need you to trust me here Mags, please. I’ve never lied to you before.”

“This is some bad shit Mick. I can tell her what I found and keep you out of it but if she’s this persistent, going behind your back, she won’t stop.”

“I know. I’ll talk to her. And thank you Mags. I promise I’ll tell you if I can.” He toned down his voice, looking down the hallway to make sure he hadn’t woken anyone.

“I really hope so. Good night.”

“Night.” Mickey mumbled and ended the call. He quickly dialed Olivia’s number and it rang a total of 4 times before kicking him into voicemail. “Shit.” He took a seat on the couch again and tossed his phone down. 

This was a total shit show. Benson was off the rails. She probably had a good reason, covering all the bases, but it wasn’t good. Not for him. He had made a careless mistake, one that was now on record. Forever. 

Mickey leaned back on the couch and stared at the glowing computer. Half a dozen tabs of all sorts of research, on all areas of expertise. Nothing was helping. He didn’t need information on levitating objects or strange sounds. He didn’t need to know that most people say ghosts stay for unfinished business, he already knew that. What he needed was a way to keep a ghost, a spirit, on this plain of existence. 

He needed Ian with him. And he needed a little luck dealing with Olivia.


	17. Overload

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 17-Overload

Mickey woke up to the feel of soft lips against his own, the good morning kiss was quiet, soft, perfect. He smiled and moved his hands into Ian’s hair without opening his eyes. Ian was warm, solid, real again…sort of. None of that shit last night. 

“Morning baby.” Ian whispered between soft kisses. He'd woken up cold and alone, missing his warm counterpart. 

Mickey opened his eyes to see Ian very shirtless leaning down in front of him. Arms bulging from holding his weight on the sides of the couch. Fuck, he looked good. His chest had a few new marks on It. 

“Morning.” He tilted his head up, asking for another kiss. Ian obliged with a smile. “What time is it?”

Ian glanced at the kitchen clock. “About 6. Woke up and you were gone.”

His smile slipped as memories of last night came rushing back, uninvited and unwanted. Waking up to Ian nearly gone. Not really but that’s what it felt like. That’s what it seemed like. It was fucking awful.

“Woke up around 4, couldn’t go back to sleep.” He pulled Ian down, making him bend at the knee to kneel on the floor between his legs. Ian leaned forward, hands snaking up his bare chest. “You remember anything from last night?”

Ian ran both hands up the back of Mickey’s head, fisting his hair. “Baby,” he leaned down to his ear, “I remember everything from last night.”

Satisfaction. Mickey was drowning in it. He linked his legs around Ian’s hips, his hands settled on broad shoulders. “I didn’t mean that, perv.” He smirked, amazed by Ian’s ability to turn even the simplest conversation hot and sexual and overwhelming. “I meant after.”

Ian growled and watched Mickey squirm. “I remember that too, especially eating come out of your—”

Mickey covered Ian’s mouth with his hand as he heard Yev open his door and walk out, then another door closed; bathroom. “Fuck Ian, don’t say shit like that. My fuckin body gets all demanding and shit.” 

Ian smirked under Mickey’s hand. He waited until he heard the sound of the shower before he licked Mickey’s hand slowly, making an obscene moaning noise.

“God!” Mickey didn’t move his hand, it should have been childish and gross, but it was insanely sexy. “Ian…”

Ian pulled away and slowly sucked on Mickey’s index finger. Making sure to keep his eyes open, trained on his face. His hands slipped down Mickey's chest to grip thick thighs and squeezed. 

“You can’t do this to me…” Mickey whined as Ian moved to his middle finger, sucking on it slowly. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

Ian nodded and moved to his pinkie, scraping his teeth down it and watched Mickey tremble. His fingers tucked under the band of Mickey’s sweats, slowly pulling them down to see his boxers on Mickey’s hips. 

He didn’t pull away. He helped, lifted his ass and let Ian pull the sweats down. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mind went on the fritz when Ian touched him. He needed to talk to him about last night, about what he woke up to and about what Mags called about. 

Ian finally pulled back, happy that all 5 of his fingers were slick and shiny. “Look at you,” Ian smiled, eyes flashing, “flushed and beautiful.”

And there it was. The words that only Ian could say to make every muscle, bone and nerve in his body vibrate and pulse with need. 

“I needed to talk to you.” Mickey wanted, gripping Ian’s shoulders hard as those long, skilled fingers moved up his thighs. 

“Can it wait til after I make you come?” Ian quirked an eyebrow just as his finger tips grazed Mickey’s balls. “I never get enough of you during the day.” He leaned forward and spoke against pink lips.

That small touch had his body begging to come. Begging to feel those hands gripping him tight. Jerking him to full completion, to ecstasy, bliss, ultimate euphoria. 

“Can I baby?” Ian licked Mickey’s bottom lip.

Mickey just nodded. That other shit, serious shit, could wait. It would have to. Ian wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was fully sprung on Ian, each move, every word had him eager, needy. 

“You are so beautiful like this baby,” Ian knocked his head against Mickey’s who pushed against his. His fingers slid up a thick, hard shaft, smiling when Mickey groaned against his lips. “Lettin me make you feel good, givin you what you need.” 

“I like when you give me what I need.” Mickey let his head drop back as the head of his dick was worked over. The praise was going to his head, making him voice exactly what he was thinking, without hesitation. “What are you going to do?”

Ian kissed down his jaw, then his neck, pausing to suck a deep bruise against that thick, pulsing vein before he moved down. Kissing the expansion of his chest, biting each nipple. And Mickey loved it. Moaning and begging and pushing his head closer to his body. 

“I want to fuck you, of course.” He winked when Mickey bit his bottom lip. “But…we have a limited amount of time, so I guess my mouth will just have to do the work for me.” He moved down again, biting over his stomach and down to his hips.

Mickey liked that plan. Very fucking much. There was no backing away now. His fingers were itching to grip Ian’s hair as he sucked him off. “You gonna make me come?”

Ian unfastened the little button on the boxers and pushed his tongue inside the hole to lick at his shaft. Mickey’s hips bucked, hands in his hair tightened. “Don’t I always?”

“Fuck yes you do.” He grinned. 

“Take yourself out for me.” Ian ordered with a heated look.

Mickey lost his smile and swallowed thickly. “You don’t want to?”

Ian shook his head. “I wanna watch you do it.”

Mickey let his hands fall from Ian’s hair and quickly pulled his dick out, stroking it slowly as green eyes blazed. “You like to watch?”

“I like to watch you.” Ian rubbed his own groin, pressed roughly against the couch. “Change of plans baby, you’re gonna get yourself off for me.”

“Shit.” He pushed his hips forward, thrusting into his fist. “I’d rather have your mouth.” Despite saying that, he didn’t stop stroking. 

“I’d rather have that ass, but we mustn’t be picky.” Ian leaned back on his heels, pushing down his own boxers to let his dick swing out. “Show me baby.”

Mickey licked his lips as he watched Ian’s dick leak. It got smoothed down that impressive length and he suddenly changed his mind, he wanted to blow Ian instead of receiving it. 

But Ian wanted to watch, he wanted to play. For them both to play. Mickey lifted one leg onto the couch and spread his thighs, his arm moving at a steady pace. “Like this?”

Ian nodded, his own hand moving his arm to match Mickey’s. “Fuck, I should have seen this first. Gotten the full fucking picture.” 

Mickey moaned and fucked into his fist, watching Ian watch him. “Yeah? How’s it look?” He raised his brows, fishing for compliments. He needed to hear them, needed it to add to the pleasure. 

Ian growled. That’s what he wanted. He wanted what Mickey wanted and after their little talk about it, he was happy to be reassured that they both wanted it. “There’s my good baby,” Mickey closed his eyes, “so pretty for me.”

His body shook, legs trembling. “M’ not pretty.” He denied it because he had to.

“Oh, yes you are Mick. You’re my pretty baby. Makin my dick hard, making it leak just for you. Makin me want to crawl up this couch and stretch you open.”

His arm loved faster, squeezing tighter. At this rate, it wouldn’t take long. Already his body was slick with sweat, trembling, panting. “Do it Ian, I’m already open for you.”

“Oh God,” Ian had to grip the table as wave after wave of unbearable desire crashed into him. He tilted his head to the side, to glance at that sweet, addicting hole, it clenched for him, wanting to welcome him. “I want to so bad.”

Mickey nodded quickly as he lifted his other foot on the couch, giving Ian a better view. “Please Ian, please.” He put one hand under his ass, feeling around until he brushed over his hole. It had him thrusting hard into his fist, whimpering. “Just a little, just put it in for a minute.”

Ian fell forward, bracing against the couch as he scooted forward. His head rubbed against his hole. Fuck, it was tempting. “You close?” he asked breathlessly.

Mickey nodded, moved his hand back to spit onto his palm before he upped his pace. “You gonna put it in?”

Ian nipped at his knee. “Just the head baby, want to finish in you.” He slowly pushed the thick head in. His hole stretched wide enough to make his heart stutter. 

“F-fuck!” Mickey threw his head back and tried to grind down, to push that dick in further but Ian wasn’t moving. He held him in place and kept working his dick. “I need it all.”

A door opened, and Mickey held his breath, followed by light steps until another door closed. 

“No time baby.” His voice shook and his balls tightened when Mickey clenched around him. “I’m so close.”

Mickey rocked against Ian’s dick hard, managing to slide more inside. “Just do it. One thrust,” he begged and rolled his balls, “one thrust, and I’m done.”

Ian nodded quickly and slid all the way in. So tight, hot, wet from last night’s come. So goddamn good. “Baby…baby!” He chanted as he came hard, filling him up.

Mickey tensed, balls tight, head pulsing as Ian filled him up. “Shit. Oh, God!” He worked his cock, fisting hard and fast, loving how Ian didn’t take his dick out of his ass. Fuck, he came hard, watching Ian push in and out slowly until his legs were shaking. All up his belly, over his hand. He slowed to an even pump, spreading his come up and down because he knew Ian was watching.

Ian pulled out and Mickey winced, feeling his come easily leaking out from his shallow penetration. He didn’t need to jump up and grab a towel, Ian took care of it. He always did. 

“Mmm…” Ian rose back up and licked the rest off his lips. “If I could eat that for every meal, I would.”

Mickey snorted but couldn’t help his blush, or the smirk that followed. “You only got the first half.” He let his dick slap back against his belly and showed Ian his sticky hand. “What about this?”

Ian leaned forward and sucked the first finger, groaning salaciously. “Rub it in.” he smiled at Mickey’s shocked look. “Gotta shower any way baby. Just rub it in.”

He huffed. “No, just gonna use my boxers.”

Ian shook his head. “Please? Just once. I wanna see.”

Pouty Ian. Weakness. That asshole. Mickey slowly put his hand in the largest pool of come and slowly spread it all up his chest and belly, like lotion and Ian watched with wide green eyes. It was Ian watching that made it sexier. 

It might feel nice now, but in about 5 minutes it was going to dry and flake and itch. But Ian’s face made it worth it. “Like this?”

Ian nodded and kept watching as he bent down to clean off his dick. “You follow direction well baby.”

Mickey groaned, both at the words and Ian’s tongue. He ran his other hand into Ian’s hair and lightly tugged him up to kiss. Tasting them both mixed together. Ian was turning him into a little come addict. 

“Now, what did you need to talk about?” Ian pulled back and helped Mickey dress before he pulled his own up. “You said it was important.”

Mickey looked away. He didn’t want to darken the mood with what Mags had said last night. Or with what he found on the internet. Both things had his mind going a million miles an hour. “Nothing that can’t wait.” 

Luckily before Ian could argue, Yev’s door opened and a few seconds later, he walked out showered and dressed, ready for school.

“Morning.” 

Mickey nodded and leaned forward. “You sleep okay?”

“Restless but I guess that’s expected.”

Mickey knew it was. After all that shit with Ian, then Mags, then too much Googling, his brain had shut down and he was restless. “Yeah, me too.”

Yev looked around, expecting to see something. Anything. He didn’t. “Ian still here?”

Ian smiled.

“He is.” He nodded to the end of the table. “Just waking me up. Asshole.”

Ian scuffed. “I ate it good too.”

Mickey snorted and Yev tilted his head. “Shit, sorry. This one way shit is gonna be odd for awhile. He just said good morning.”

“I’m going to spank you for lying Mick.” Ian got up and went to Yev, unable to touch him but it was worth a shot. 

“Morning Ian.” Yev smiled, feeling a little silly. “Try and take care of him today, yeah?”

Mickey smiled at Ian, who nodded. “He will Yev, don’t worry.”

“Good. I’m gonna head out early. Gonna meet Carl.”

“Just remember what we talked about, okay?” Mickey pegged him with a dark look. “No telling anyone. Not Carl, not Nick. No one.”

“I won’t.” 

“Good. Get goin. Love you.” He mumbled and stood to stretch before heading to the kitchen.

Yev smiled. “Love you too.” He grabbed the door knob. “You too Ian.”

Mickey caught that quick emotion on Ian’s face, sadness, happiness. Love. Sorrow. All of it. 

“Love You Yev.”

“He loves you too kid.” 

Mickey poured two cups of coffee as Yev left and Ian moved to stand behind him, gripping him around the waist. He leaned back, smiling at the kiss Ian placed on his cheek. “You sure you don’t wanna stay here today? You don’t have to be around all that shit.”

“I want to. I need to.” Ian mumbled. “And we still need to talk about what you’re trying to avoid.”

Fuck. This is the problem with being in love. With being close to people. They could read you like a damn book. He tried to move but Ian held him with strong arms, making him face it. 

“Ian, we don’t have time for this.” 

“We are going to make time, okay?” He sighed heavily. “Please?”

Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and when he tried to move away this time, Ian let him. He just paced around for a minute, already aware of how this was going to go. It was gonna freak Ian the fuck out.

“Remember when I asked if you remembered anything from last night, after the sex shit?”

Ian nodded. “And I said no.”

“Yeah, well, something else happened.” Mickey stood on the other side of the counter, arms crossed. “I woke up and I couldn’t feel you.”

“What, like I rolled over?”

“No, you were in the same spot, against my back, but you were cold, and I couldn’t feel you.” Green eyes widened. “I could touch you, but that connection was gone.”

Ian paled.

“You moved and it made no sound, I could see you breathing but couldn’t feel the air. Or the scruff on your face and the sheets didn’t move as you shifted.”

“Like at my place.”

Mickey nodded, a chill going up his spine as he remembered how empty it felt, how alone. “I don’t know what happened, or how I got you to come back, but you did, and I could feel you. That spark was back.”

“It’s getting worse Mick.” Ian ran his hands into his hair. “Every day, it’s getting worse.”

Ian was right. It was. And the shit he’d found online only helped up to a point. He would have to do some extreme shit, shit that may not even work, just to keep Ian there. 

“I didn’t want….I was hoping to wait til later, so it didn’t make us feel this way.” 

Ian moved towards him, knocking their heads together gently. “I’m so sorry baby.” He cupped his face. “I’m sorry you had to do that alone.”

Mickey didn’t look at him but nodded. He didn’t want to do it alone either but what choice did he have? He felt hollow without Ian, without feeling their connection. Their heart. They were two lost souls, melded into one to find love and happiness, family. A future. 

Without it, it felt worse than death. 

“I stayed up to do some research we talked about.” Now would be the time to tell him about it. To share the burden of those results. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t put that on Ian’s mind. Mickey didn’t even want that in his own mind. 

Fading had popped up one or 12 times during his little study session. It gave him chills each time. It made his stomach tighten with fear

TRAPPED SOULS

-A soul can be trapped between life and death, as a ghost or a spirit, if they have unfinished business. Once that business has been taken care of, the soul can finally move on and find peace.

-A soul can be trapped in limbo if their death resulted in extreme violence, would be unable to move on. Trapped, neither here nor there, tortured by seeing loved ones but unable to communicate.

Mickey had shut both of those tabs. He knew about unfinished business from just about every ghost movie ever made. The unable to move on due to violence as well. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Ian hadn’t latched onto him. Would he just be out there, lost, alone? Scared. Hurt. Without him. 

FADING

-A soul without justice, without peace, will simply fade. No longer of this world and will not be there in the next. Each day they will lessen, some who can touch or communicate, will lose their ability until there is nothing left. They would never find peace, or some resemblance of happiness.

That’s what was happening to Ian. Each day it was getting worse. Mickey was losing him and if he didn’t hurry, if he didn’t find the bastard who did this, Ian would simply be gone. Forever. Even when Mickey died, he would never find Ian’s soul on the other side. 

He couldn’t let that happen. So, he pushed forward, opening more tabs, more facts based on shaky opinions. He needed to find a way for Ian to stay if he couldn’t find his killer. The results were less than comforting.

A few options popped up, all from different places, different opinions and “experiences”. Number one was awful and not a confidence boost.

SOUL SWAPPING

-A lost soul can cross over, to become real, to find happiness, a future. But life is not free. A soul must die before a soul can live.

Meaning he would have to die, so that Ian could live. Plain and simple. No other way to decipher it. A second opinion, option, experience…whatever you want to call it, was just as disturbing as it was tempting. 

-A lost soul can walk the plain of existence, if the soul that took theirs is distinguished.  


Meaning, whoever killed Ian would have to die for him to live. Mickey liked that one better than the first. Whoever killed Ian deserved a worse fate, just as Ian deserved to live again. 

“Mick?”

Mickey blinked away those thoughts as Ian called his name. He'd spaced out again. “Yeah?”

“What were you thinkin about?”

“Just…” tell him, tell him. He silently yelled at himself, but he couldn’t say it. “Just everything.”

Ian nodded and stepped around the counter that separated them and Mickey practically fell into him. “We need to talk about it. It’ll help.”

“We have other shit to talk about Ian.” He kissed his bare chest and pulled back to tell him the rest. “When I was up last night, Mags called me.”

“The nice M.E. lady?”

“Yeah, she told me that Olivia kept her at the lab late last night.”

“Wow, she found something at Kash & Grab?”

Mickey shook his head. “No, but she brought Mags the sheets from your bed.” He lifted his eyebrows to emphasize the seriousness of it.

Ian’s eyes widened. “Holy Shit. She…but we,” he breathed deep, “like, all over that bed.”

“I know. And I have no fucking explanation to offer. I can’t cover that shit up because Mags knows, and it looks creepy as shit since you’re…”

Ian nodded. “Dead, yeah I can see how that might seem odd. Did she tell Olivia?”

“No, she is gonna lie to her about it, keep Fuller from breathing down my neck about my spunk all over your bed.” He grumbled, ditched his coffee and went back into his room. Ian followed closely. “But she wants an explanation.”

“You can’t just tell her Mick. Trust me, she won’t react like you and Yev did. This would freak her out.”

Mickey laid out a clean pair of slacks and a button up shirt on the bed. “Yeah, no shit. I can try and lie and say I that I crashed there, and my body just reacted like it always does in the morning, but I have a feeling she’s gonna call bullshit.”

Ian nodded and helped himself to one of Mickeys clean t-shirts. It was a little tight, but he felt odd wearing the same one. “Can she prove anything?”

Mickey took about half a second to admire the stretched t-shirt over riddled abs, before he looked away. “You mean, can she tell we fucked? No, of course not. I’m sure you’re all over that bed, no telling when but I should have never been there.”

“I didn’t think Olivia would randomly show up and test my sheets like that Mick. If I had, I’d have waited for the hotel.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Aggravated. Worried. 

“Look, it’s not you.” He moved to stand in front of Ian. “It’s not on me either. Mags will give me a little wiggle room but I’m more worried about where Liv is goin with all this.”

Ian gave a small smile. “I know. And we can’t do shit to change it but still…” He shook his head. “We just need a damn break.”

Mickey leaned down to kiss his pouty lips. “We’ll get one, promise. I’m gonna shower really quick, then we can head over? Try and figure this shit out.”

“Want some company?” He asked with little to no heat in his voice.

Mickey nodded and helped Ian stand and lead them both into the bathroom. It wasn’t about sex. Not this time. It was just about being close, being together. Too much shit on their minds and he hadn’t even told Ian the worst of it. Not right now. Now, he just wanted to let Ian wash his hair and scrub Ian’s back and share slow, sweet, reassuring kisses. 

Something to help ground them. Something real, simple. The rest would show up sooner or later, there was no reason to rush it along.

**

As soon as he walked into the precinct, he hunted Olivia down, finding her in the locker rooms, shirtless and nursing a cup of coffee. He didn’t care. Not one bit. 

“Mick! Jesus, knock maybe?” She grabbed her shirt and put it over the tops of her breasts.

Mickey scuffed. “Really? No offense but tits don’t do it for me.”

She smiled. “Yeah I know. Reflex I guess.”

She acted like nothing was wrong. Like she didn’t go behind his back. Did she? She didn’t know about Ian, right?

He had a big to-do list for today and cut right to the chase this time. “Is there some reason you didn’t go to the Kash & Grab yesterday like I asked?”

“I did go Mick. I checked the freezers and didn’t find any evidence of Gallagher being there.”

She looked at him with that cop stare. “Then why did I get a notification from Mags this morning that the DNA evidence you ordered on Gallagher’s bedsheets is ready?” he fudged the truth a little. He didn’t want to cost Mags her job by telling Liv he had a heads up.

“Oh,” her face fell. “Sorry Mick. It was just a hunch really. I just wanted to see if he kept any lovers from us. Maybe add to the suspect pool.”

Well, that seemed legit. He would have done the same shit if…if it wasn’t his damn DNA all over that bed. And they had uncovered a secret lover; Ned, or Lishman, and she might have thought he lied about more.

“I had no reason to suspect another lover, Liv.” He relaxed his shoulders, trying not to be on his guard. “And I currently suspect all the Lishman's for this. We have to narrow that down.”

Olivia nodded and slipped her shirt on. “What did the DNA say?”

“Gallagher’s DNA, along with Raines. Which I suspected ready, but I cleared Raines already.”

Olivia deflated. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to step on your toes Mick.”

And she really wasn’t. Olivia was a good detective. And she liked to have all avenues covered. 

“Look, I get it. Okay? This case is all over the place and shit keeps getting harder.” He took a seat next to her. “But I need to know you’re gonna follow my lead and not add more shit. We have plenty.”

Olivia nodded.

“Otherwise I can go it alone.”

“Just give me another chance Mick, please? I’ll follow your lead. Just let me help.”

He nodded. One more chance. He only ever gave people one. “Okay, but last chance Liv. I’m close to figuring all this shit out and need to stay on point.”  


“Last chance.”

They shared a smile and he stood up. “When you’re done, we gotta go pick up the good doctor. Grill him about his shitty alibi and his son giving him up.”

“Good cop, bad cop?” she smiled.

“More like bad cop, worse cop.” He winked, making sure she knew which he was. “Ready in 10?”

“Ready in 10.”

Mickey walked out of the locker room and back to his desk where Ian was. 

“Hey, what’d she have to say?” Ian looked up from the file he couldn’t turn in front of him until Mickey came closer. 

He sat on the edge of his desk, wondering if every other cop in this place could see pages moving by themselves. It made him chuckle. “Uh, she said she just wanted to make sure there were no hidden…uh, lovers?” he formed it as a question.

“Wow, really? Cuz I have a closet of those I was just dying to keep a secret.” Ian rolled his eyes, crossing his arms defensively.

“She’s a good cop Ian, she just doesn’t know you like I do.” Mickey leaned over to bump Ian’s arm. “But she’s fine, okay? Nothin to worry about there.”

Ian nodded and leaned in closer, resting his head against one of Mickey’s arms. “So, what’s next then? Mags?”

“Not yet. Gotta go pick up Lishman, get some answers.” As if on cue, his phone started ringing and he smiled, wiggling the phone at Ian. “Finally, God. He was takin forever.”

Ian grinned. “Be nice.”

“Yeah sure.” He winked at Ian before answering. “Hey Archie, you got somethin for me?”

“Hey Mick, yeah I do. Sorry it took awhile but I got something you’re really gonna want to see.”

“Now?” He asked, looking over to see Olivia walking towards him. Mickey automatically shifted closer to Ian, putting space between the two of them.

“You busy?”

Olivia nodded at him. Armed and ready.

“Yeah, got a suspect to pick up. Just gimme the short version and I’ll stop by when I get back.”

“Jimmy Lishman's story held up. He waited around the front of the club for his dad just like he said, but he didn’t meet him, also like he said.”

Mickey reached across Ian to grab a piece of paper, nearly falling into his lap when Ian kissed the side of his neck. “Shit, well that’s good.”

“It gets better. Now, I didn’t get the dad on camera, but I got someone else meeting Jimmy up front. I’m gonna say by her age and they way they interact that she’s his mother.”

That stopped him. Eyes wide. “Blonde woman, looks a little sloshed all the time?”

“That’s the one. I have a clear shot of her face and you can tell he is freaking the fuck out and trying to get her off camera.”

“Okay, great man. Thanks. Get me a few close ups to show em, when I get her back here. I’m just gonna pick up the whole lot of them.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call and wanted to turn to Ian and tell him, but Olivia was right there, so he spoke loud enough for both of them to hear and when Ian smiled, Mickey knew he understood.

“Jimmy’s story about meeting his dad, but the dad not showing is true. He never met his dad, but we have his mom on camera.”

Ian cursed, rubbing his head. “That makes no sense Mick. I’ve never even met that woman before.”

“Wow, so the entire Lishman family is a bunch of liars.” Olivia shook her head. “We picking them all up?”

Mickey nodded and stood up, Ian followed. “We are. I’m gonna have the officer watchin the hotel deliver Jimmy, I’m gonna hit up the dad. You got the mom?”

Olivia nodded as she put her jacket on. “I got the mom.”

Mickey didn’t just nod. He gave her a hard look. One he knew she saw. “Just the mom Liv, then right back here.”

“Yes sir.”

He watched her walk off, not really caring if she was in a pissy mood or not. That’s what happened when people didn’t listen and tried to make shit harder. 

“She’s mad.”

Mickey nodded as they walked out of the building, towards his car. “Her own fault. She gets one more chance and if anything like that happens again, she’s out.”

They turned the corner and nearly mowed into someone trying to enter the building. Mickey reached out and kept her from falling, only to realize it was Fiona bundled up. 

“Fiona?” Ian asked, confused.

“Hey Mick, sorry.” Fiona stood upright, trying not to rely on him for support.

“It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking.” But he was looking at her now. Her eyes were red like she’d been crying, dark from lack of sleep or probably stress and he was almost sure she had on the same outfit as before too. “You okay?”

Fiona shook her head. “No, not really. I haven’t been sleeping much…uh, I can’t stop thinking about Ian and Jimmy lying.”

He nodded because he was probably the only one who understood. “Yeah, I know it takes a little while to adjust.”

“I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Ian couldn’t look away from her. He wanted so badly to reach out and connect. Like he and Mickey did, or Yev, or even with Lip. He just missed her so much.

“Normally I’d say no, but yeah, this time you did.” He smiled when she chuckled. “Did you need something?”

“Nothing that can’t wait.” She huffed her arms close to her body, unable to keep eye contact for long periods of time.

“I gotta do something real quick but,” there was always a but. Before all this, before Ian and the Gallagher’s, he didn’t care so much about this shit. Feelings and trying to be accommodating. “Give me an hour? If you want, we can sit down, talk it all out?”

Fiona nodded and wiped her face. “Sounds good. Thanks Mick.”

Mickey accepted the hug as he always did, not because he needed it, but because she did, and he knew Ian wanted to be the one to comfort her right now. “Just come by later, okay?” He mumbled into her hair.

“Okay.” She pulled back and turned around.

“She looks awful.” Ian commented as he stepped forward to where she had been standing. 

Mickey squeezed his arm. “That’s guilt, Ian. She’s feelin all the shit she tried to block out.”

Ian nodded, sad. Quiet. 

“Don’t worry okay? After our pick up, she’ll be back, and we can talk.” Mickey linked his hand with Ian’s and led him towards the car. 

“I just want everyone to be okay again.”

Fuck. Everyone. His family, Yev. They were all morning the loss. And the worse part about it was that he couldn’t help them. Yev might be okay now, but if he couldn’t figure out a way to keep Ian around, he wouldn’t be. 

**

Mickey parked in the parking lot at the hospital, scowling as he and Ian stepped into the cold parking structure. Mr. Lishman had not been at home. No one had been and he suddenly wanted to know how Olivia planned to pick up the wife.

“I hate hospitals.” Ian pulled Mickey’s jacket closet, hoping it might help.

“You and me both.” Ian met him at the front of the car and he immediately put his arm around Ian’s waist, so his hand was on his lower back. “Hopefully this won’t take long.”

They walked towards the elevator and as it went down to their floor, Mickey kept to himself. The last thing he needed was someone seeing him talking to himself in an elevator or hugging his invisible boyfriend. Ian smiled in understanding and kept to himself. 

“I hate that.” Mickey grumbled as they walked off the elevator and towards the actual hospital.

“Hate what?”

“That shit,” he thumbed backwards. “Acting like you’re not there.”

Ian chuckled and bumped his shoulder into Mickey’s. “I get it Mick. We never know who looks at that shit. Don’t need people seeing something weird.”

Mickey just smiled and held the door open for Ian who seemed to like the gesture. The lady at the front desk, did not. She gave him THAT look. The one he’d been keeping to himself in the elevator for. Like he was crazy or weird for holding the door open and smiling for no reason.

“Be nice baby.” Ian kissed his cheek before pulling away. “She doesn’t know.”

Mickey walked to the counter and cleared his throat. “I need to see Doctor Lishman please.” He reached down and showed her his badge. “Where can I find him?”

“He should he in his office.” she stammered and came around the desk. “Let me show you detective.”

Mickey followed her closely but stayed back to walk next to Ian. They couldn’t talk but they didn’t need to. Just being close felt better than his best day ever. The woman lead them down several hallways and stop at a large wooden door with Lishman's name printed on the front.

“Thanks ma’am, I can take it from here.” Mickey smiled and she moved back, high tailing it out of his way. He only offered a knock out of mild politeness but pushed open the door.

“Are you kidding me?” Mickey couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Lishman was behind his desk, dressed as a doctor would be. The white coat and everything. Sitting on his desk was a man, a much younger man, propped up on the desk like a damn trophy. Legs crossed, folded on Lishman's lap, Lishman's hands resting on them. 

At his intrusion, Lishman paled and quickly made the other man stand and tried to close his coat, probably concealing an erection. Fuckin perv. 

“Detective, you can’t just barge in here like this. I was in the middle of…”

Mickey snorted and grabbed the younger man…younger kid, maybe 19 when he got a good look, and ushered him to the door. “Yeah, I know what you were in the middle of. You just can’t help it, can you?”

Ian shook his head, glaring at Ned…Lloyd. That fucker…

Mickey kicked the door closed and Lishman jumped. Ian was stiff as a damn board beside him. Vibrating with anger. He knew why. Even though Lishman may not have loved Ian, he still had no respect. Ian had been dead less than 2 weeks and he had already found someone to fill the void.

“You didn’t care about him at all, did you?” he got right into that smug face, nearly breathing fire. “Just used him to get what you wanted, because you can’t get it at home.”

He was trying so hard not to pull his weapon the moment Lishman opened his mouth to explain. All that out were lies. After the first one, Mickey tuned him out. Moving back to stalk the room like an animal in a cage. Read to bite the first hand that touches him.

“Baby…” Ian spoke clear and quiet from across the room. “Please don’t.”

Mickey looked over at him. Ian wasn’t mad at him for losing it. I’m fact, he had that sweet smile in the corner of his lips. The one he gave just for him.

“He isn’t worth it.” Ian held his hand out to him.

Mickey didn’t hesitate to go to him and link their fingers. Lishman was yacking on behind him, unable to see their hands. He squeezed Ian’s tightly and kissed the back of it.

“He isn’t. But you are.” His voice was as sure as it had ever been. As sure as when he told Ian he loved him. As sure as when he said it to Yev. 

Ian smiled and cupped his face, leaning closely. “I love you too Mick.”

That was enough to get him to calm down. He kissed Ian’s hand once more and turned back to Lishman with another attitude all together. 

“Stop!” he yelled at the top of his lungs and Lishman shut the hell up. “First of all, I stopped listening the moment you opened your mouth and nothin but lies spilled out. Two, I don’t care who you fuck or when, but you need to learn some goddamned respect.”

Ian leaned back against the door, watching happily with dreamy eyes.

“I told you I’d check your story and be back. I had someone check your credit card records, and the only hotel you booked was for that Thursday before Ian was killed. You lied.” 

He gripped Lishman's arm and hauled his lanky ass up and twisted that same arm behind his back, hard. “Lloyd Lishman,” he paused to wink at Ian’s smiling face, “you are under arrest for the rape and murder of Ian Gallagher. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you.” He yanked the other arm back just as hard, linking them both together. 

He made sure to knock Lishman against everything on the way to the door. The desk, the file cabinet, the nearest all. He shoved him into the wall, face first and Ian’s arm shot out and gripped his jaw, laying a heated, messy, desperate, all consuming kiss on his lips that left him hard and breathless. 

“Fuck, you are so sexy baby.” Ian groaned and gave a little chuckled at how needy Mickey looked. 

Mickey winked, licking his lips to taste Ian again. He understood the sudden shot of lust. It was an adrenaline rush to get the bad guy. A thrill to know they might get justice. He felt it too and Ian showed his obvious arousal to the situation.

Mickey jerked open to the door to see Olivia Benson about to knock. His smile slipped. Was she going against him again? It must have showed on his face because she held her hands up in surrender.

“Easy Mick, it’s not what you think.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No? What is it then?”

She snapped her fingers. “This way boys.”

Mickey held onto Lishman tightly as two uniformed officers brought a cuffed Mrs. Lishman forward. He smiled widely and shook his head. “Two for one special Benson?”

She laughed. “Been lookin all over for her. Had Archie track her cell and BAM! Here she was.”

Mickey stuck out tattooed knuckles and heard Ian chuckle when Olivia bumped them with her own. “Got a two for one deal here. Better than nothing.”

Benson smiled. “She was supposed to be at the hair salon, apparently she goes there every day around this time, but she didn’t today.”

They all walked back to the main lobby of the hospital and stopped to wait for more patrol cars. “I wonder why. Maybe they were trying to come up with a story.”

Lishman hadn’t acted like he knew his wife was in the building. For fuck sakes, he had someone about to ‘service’ him just before they arrived. So what the hell was the wife doin there?

“What is it?” Ian asked to his left. He noticed Mickey zoning out a little bit.

Mickey chewed his lip. “Liv, exactly where did you find her?”

“Why?”

“Because I know for a fact that her husband wasn’t expecting her to show up here.”

“How do you know?”

Mickey smirked. “Because he had some twink propped up on his desk like a snack. He had no clue she was coming.”

Olivia chuckled. “Wow Mick, that's descriptive.”

“So, where did you nab her?” Mickey asked again, mostly curious as to what she was up to.

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. “We kinda had to search everywhere. All the obvious places of course, but we found her on the lower levels.”

The lower levels? Those were mostly just for storage. The morgue probably be found there as well. Empty offices, or extra lab equipment or…

Realization dawned on him. His eyebrows shot up, surprised it had been so obvious and yet not at the same time. He kinda felt like a rookie and that old man about to retire and didn’t lift anything heavier than a pencil. “Holy fuck!”

“What?” Both Ian and Olivia asked at the same time.

“The lower levels...” he said it like they were just supposed to know what he meant. “Uh, you know…they have tons of shit down there. Not many people so it would be easy to slip in and out without being noticed.”

Olivia nodded, trying to keep up. 

Ian just stood still, trying to think ahead. And then he got it. Just like Mickey had and he felt like an idiot.

Mickey nodded at Ian, smiling and Olivia looked at him with wide eyes. She still didn’t get it, but Ian did. “Liv, no cameras down there. Used mostly for storage. Big enough for a walk-in freezer…”

“Oh my God!” Olivia shouted. 

Mickey nodded and shoved Lishman to the nearest officer. “Keep them both separated. I need CSU here ASAP. Shut down this entire fucking hospital and I need to see the camera footage from last Sunday night, anytime after 4 AM.”

“You need a warrant.” Lloyd sneered.

Mickey smiled and ignored him to address the officer from their precinct. “What a great idea. Call the ADA for that warrant. Tell them it’s needed for video footage and any evidence we find related to storage or freezer space.” 

“Sure thing detective.”

Mickey pulled Lishman down by his collar. “I know it was you, probably your wife too. I am going down there, and I will find some evidence of him.”

Lloyd stayed quiet.

Mickey looked around and lowered his voice. “You had better start coming clean with me, Ned. I’ll bet your wife will. She doesn’t seem like the prison type to me.” Mickey pushed away.

“Get them out of my sight.” He growled and they were taken to the cruisers outside. “Liv, call Fuller for me.” He started to jog down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” she yelled after him.

Mickey smiled as Ian ran with him. “You know where I’m going.”


	18. Coming Apart at the Seams

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 18- Coming Apart at the Seams

Mickey paced outside the large freezer in the lower level of the hospital. As a detective, his damn job was to detect shit. But the line of yellow tape kept him on the wrong side. It didn’t take long for him and Ian to find the freezer. It was pressed to the very far end of the lower level and next to it was an access door. It would have been very easy to slip in, hide a body and slip out without being caught. No one would ask questions or use the freezer by the look of it.

CSU was in there now, looking for any evidence of Ian or who might have put him there. It was starting to look like a group effort. Mickey was certain that anyone other than Lloyd Lishman wouldn’t have been able to lure Ian out, certainly not the wife. Ian wouldn’t have let his guard down around her. But it had been her on camera at The Fairy Tale and it was her who had been caught down here. Somehow, she was in on it. Or aware of what her husband had done. 

Olivia had taken both Lloyd and his wife to the prescient And Mickey had gotten confirmation that Jimmy had also been safely delivered and all three of them were awaiting his arrival. He specifically told Olivia to stay away from them. To not question them or even thinking about going into the interrogation rooms without him. He needed to be there, to be apart of it until the end. He also wanted to make them sweat it out, to worry and let their guard down. To be so emotional, something would slip through the cracks.

The adrenaline from this big break was still thrumming through his body. The excitement of possibly uncovering more evidence is what he lived for. It’s what kept him going. It gave him that dash of hope that Ian had begged him to have. But with the hope of more, the feeling of dread came also. The closer to the end they became, the more likely it was to lead to Ian’s end. And that was simply unacceptable to him. 

Ian had been just as excited as he was. Running down the halls with him, looking for clues like some off brand Scooby Doo. Even now, Ian was unable to sit still and just wait for CSU to finish. 

“Aren’t they done yet?” Ian huffed and leaned against the wall that wasn’t being invaded by cops.

Mickey smiled and moved to stand beside Ian. He wanted to face him, but it would be easy for someone to look over and catch him staring at a wall, talking to it. Hello crazy train. And he didn’t need that shit right now. Even whispering was a risk, but Ian was just as stoked as he was, just as ready for this to be over. 

“It’ll take as long as it takes to do it right.” He mumbled but kept looking ahead instead of at Ian like he wanted to. “Last thing we need is for them to fuck it up.”

“Do they usually?”

“Not when they take their time.” He thumbed the corner of his mouth, anxious. “You wanna head back? This might feel like it’s goin faster if we don’t watch.”

Ian shook his head and stepped away from the wall. “No way. I want to see what they pull from in there.”

So did he. Like really fuckin bad. He didn’t want to find out later. “Alright, we can hang around until they’re done. You wanna go in, poke around?”

Ian’s eyes widened. “We can do that?”

“Fuck no.” Mickey laughed. “I can’t go in there or it’ll be my ass.”

Ian smirked and stepped forward until Mickey’s back was against the wall. “And that ass is so worth it.”

“Oh really?” Mickey covered his smile with the back of his hand, trying not to be so pleased to hear that. “Well, you can have that later.”

Ian put both hands flat against the wall until his nose bumped Mickey’s. “And if I want it now?”

That pulled a deep groan from his chest and made certain parts of his body tingle and ache. “Gonna fuck me here, hmm? Inside a closet maybe?”

Once again, this was not the time for sex or any closet talk. This was serious, stressful shit. But adrenaline was running like blood through their veins and each time Ian mentioned sex of any kind, his mind took a little vacation. 

“You want me to baby? Hmm, you’d have to be real quiet for me.” Ian licked over Mickey’s thick bottom lip, feeling him breath heavily. “Can you do that for me?”

Mickey shut his eyes and tried not to let it affect him so much. But fuck, it was so hard not to give in. To make Ian hold up to his promise. “We can’t.” he croaked, clearing his throat before he tried again. “I have to…”

Ian slid his hand down the wall and let it rest against Mickey’s ass. Just lightly resting against it. “What do you have to do?” Ian squeezed his ass and watched Mickey try to keep his moan inside. “You can be quiet for me, right?”

“Fuck,” he gasped and gripped Ian’s sides hard, counting his gasp as a small victory. “They’re gonna need me Ian.” He whined, wanting nothing more than to climb him like a damn tree.

“Feel me baby.” Ian moved Mickey’s hand to his dick, making him squeeze. “I fuckin need you. I need you real bad right now." 

There was only so much he could take before he snapped. Before the urge to give in and bend over any available service, became too much to handle. Mickey looked over Ian’s shoulder, finding the hallway dark and empty aside from them. 

“Come here.” Mickey growled and pulled Ian closer by his jacket until he could feel just how much Ian needed him. Pressing against his jeans, hard and ready. “If they see me…”

Ian grinned as he pushed Mickey to the furthest corner from the freezer and slipped his hand down the back of Mickey’s slacks. “They won’t see you…” He squeezed and shivered when Mickey groaned. “But they might hear you.”

Mickey pulled up Ian’s shirt and ran his palm against warm, hard muscle. “I know how to be quiet.”

“I don’t think you do Mick.” Ian quickly popped the button on Mickey’s slacks and wasted no time stroking him until he let out a deep groan that seemed to echo, but maybe that was only in his mind. “You gotta be a good boy for me.”

Mickey was close to orgasm already and nothing had even happened. He shut his eyes as Ian worked his dick, paying close attention to the head. “I wanna be good Ian.” 

“Oh, I know you do baby. You were so good today. So strong, so fucking sexy.” Ian kissed along his jaw to reach his ear. “The way you handled him, pushing his arms around his back like that…” he growled. “So fucking sexy.”

Mickey was rocking his hips, fucking into Ian’s hand. Losing himself. He needed to act quickly, to get Ian as close as he was before it was too late. He popped the button on his jeans and slipped his hand inside just as Ian spread his legs. 

“Fuck!” Ian’s hand paused on Mickey dick when his own was touched and he knew that he would never get tired of Mickey touching him. “Think it’ll take you long?” Ian started again, rubbing the head with the pre-come that dripped out.

Mickey shook his head and tried not to let his legs give out. “Never takes me long with you Ian. God, I was close the second you mentioned the closet.” He bit his lip to try and muffle his heated moans. “Wish you could fuck me.”

Ian growled his approval and watched how much Mickey loved it. “Like this morning, hmm? Watchin each other jerk it before I come in you.”

If Ian was trying to get him to come, it was working. His entire body was shaking, sweating. He was so needy for it. “Keep going Ian. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Me too baby.” Ian pushed closer so he was talking against Mickey’s lips but not kissing him. “Wanna finger you right now. Wanna see if my come is still in there. Keeping you wet for me.”

“Ian...” Mickey closed his eyes as his entire body tensed up. “I need to come, please.”

His other hand slipped under Mickey’s boxers to rub against his crack, it was almost easy to imagine how he felt. “When we get home, I’m going to lay you out and make you come without touching your dick.”

Mickey felt it coming. He gripped Ian’s arm squeezing hard and he tried to keep up stroking him. “Yes!”

“Shh…” Ian gripped Mickey’s ass cheek and pulled it apart, “gonna tie you up and tease you, gonna touch myself until you come all over yourself.”

“Now! Oh god!!” Mickey watched as Ian pulled out of his reach and dropped quickly, engulfing his dick. Sucking hard and fast and stroking himself the entire time he did it. “Ian!!” 

Ian groaned as Mickey came, feeling it hitting the back of his throat like a canon. He swallowed over and over, groaning as he came as well, marking the dirty floor and feeling his legs almost give out.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes and let those aftershocks lessen, twitching as Ian licked him clean, nuzzling the juncture of his thighs. “Ian.”

Ian looked up, licking his lips. 

“Come here.” Mickey quickly fixed his pants as Ian stood on shaky legs, then he fixed his as well, given that one hand was a mess.

“You okay?” Ian asked quietly but his eyes kept looking to his hand. 

The way Ian was so entranced with come, fucking made his entire body blush. Ian wasn’t like the others. The ones that taste just because they think they should or that they’d wanna watch. No, Ian did it because he loved it. It scrambled his brain with how much Ian liked it. Even now, green eyes moving from his, to his hand and back again. Like he couldn’t help it.

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand and brought it closer to look at. Seeing strings of come web his fingers together, a rather large blob in his palm, threatening to drip down his wrists. Ian was panting, licking his lips. 

Mickey sucked one of Ian’s fingers, tasting him like he would if he got it himself. Groaning at the taste. He liked it of course, as he moved to finger number two, because it was Ian’s and he had a certain taste to him. 

“Baby…” Ian whispered, barely able to watch without getting hard again. Mickey was on his third finger, sucking like it was his dick. “Good boy.” Ian whispered again as Mickey pulled off his pinkie, leaving all 5 fingers slick. 

“Say it again.” Mickey swallowed, feeling it stick like honey in his throat. “Please?”

Ian groaned and couldn’t resist licking the puddle in his palm. He slowly stroked Mickey’s cheek with his knuckles on that same hand and pulled him closer. “You’re my good boy Mickey.”

Mickey felt that calm spread over him. Like he always did when Ian said that. Even as Ian pulled him into a deep, slow kiss, he remained relaxed, calm. High. He welcomed Ian’s touch, slicked with his own come and pushed it back to him until it was gone. Leaving them lightly kissing the rest away before they parted. 

“I love when you say that.” Mickey smiled, not even able to blush because of it. For some reason, hearing that didn’t make him feel shy about it. 

Ian grinned and playfully rubbed their noses together. “I love it too.” 

“Detective!”

Ian backed up and Mickey quickly straightened his clothes before walking on weak legs back over to the blocked entrance of the freezer.

“Yeah?” he asked as a suited up CSU tech came over to him with a few evidence bags tucked under one arm. 

“We found these, stuffed into a box in the car corner.” She handed the bags over.

Mickey took them. Moving them around until he could see a red long sleeved shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, both of them muddied and scuffed, ripped. A few of the buttons on the shirt were missing. 

Ian’s clothes.

“Shit.” He mumbled as Ian stepped up beside him, quiet. Observant.

“We also found a men’s pair of Converse, size 13. We have those also bagged, some grit and grime in the souls. Might tell us where he was last.”

Mickey nodded and handed her back the bags. This was good. They found the missing clothes and shoes. They found where Ian’s…body had been kept before they dumped him. But it felt awful now. More evidence thrown in his face, Ian’s too, to remind them he was dead. That someone, maybe multiple someone’s killed him. 

“Anything else?” Mickey loosened his crooked tie, so it hung down by his chest.

“This.”

Mickey took the last bag. He didn’t have gloves on so he couldn’t open it. Inside was a wallet, faded army camo. Loose cash, a few receipts, and a pair of dog tags with Ian’s name on them. Mickey touched the letters, feeling a new wave of absolute dread wash away the post orgasmic bliss. 

“I guess I was here after all.” Ian spoke quietly, eyes trained on the bag.

Mickey nodded and handed the bag back over. “What else?”

“You might want to come in for this detective.”

The tone of her voice was like a death rattle. Something to avoid and he knew the moment she phrased it like that, that it was going to be fucking awful. He was almost sure of what he was about to see. 

The tech handed him a pair of clear booties for his shoes and a pair of gloves and walked away. Mickey held them in his fist but didn’t move to put them on.

“You might want to wait here for this Ian.” 

Ian looked at him. “Why?”

“Because you’re not going to want to see this.” Mickey moved the gloves to his left hand and linked his fingers with Ian’s. Cold. Freezing cold and not from the freezer. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. The times when Ian seemed down…maybe that wasn’t the right word. 

Detached. Disassociated. 

Ian pulled away when things like this got to be too much to handle. When shit was so bad, like finding out about Jimmy Steve and that Raines had switched his meds. The really bad shit, Ian’s mind took the back seat and let himself switch to autopilot. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Ian squeezed his hand, unable to looked away from the door to the freezer.

“Yes.” He answered quickly, squeezing back. “I know what’s in there and I don’t want you to see that. To have that in your mind.”

“But you’ll have to.”

“Ian, it’s my job.” He moved to stand in front of Ian, blocking his line of sight. Green eyes blinked and finally focused on him. “Please just wait here?”

Ian nodded, feeling like the entire world was on his shoulders. “Just…” he started but wasn’t sure what the best thing to say right now was. So he said the only thing he was sure of. “I love you Mick.”

He leaned forward until their foreheads touched and just for a moment it felt like it was just them. “I love you too Ian. So fucking much.”

“Detective?”

Mickey pulled away, which was the last thing he wanted to do. When Ian got like this, it scared the shit out if him. His mind made the jump to when he couldn’t feel Ian. When he woke up in the hospital, alone. Or when he woke up that morning Ian started to fade. It made him want to drag Ian from this awful place and make sure nothing bad ever happened to him again. To promise to keep him safe and happy and to make sure that Ian knew he was loved, every fucking day.

“I’m coming.” He slipped the booties over his boots, slipped on the gloves and stepped over the tape. With one last look at Ian, he slipped into the freezer and out of sight.

It was freezing, obviously but not in that way. Mickey huddled into his jacket, but it did very little. The cold was from dread. From fear. He felt it like a weight on his chest, making it harder to breathe with every step he took. Further into the freezer, moving passed shelves, empty storage bins, old biohazard tubs. Hearing the shutter whine of the camera each time he took a step. Muffled voices.

They must have been far enough back that anyone, if anyone tried to come inside, Ian’s body would have been blocked. Unable to be seen unless you zig zagged through the maze, looking for it. 

He didn’t want to see this. Not at all. If he could trade anything to not have to see this, he would. It was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. Haunt his dreams until he was strong enough to get passed it. 

And it did. The moment he turned the last corner. There it was. Just like in those old movies. A pale, chalk outline, in the shape of a body. Of Ian’s body. In the same shape they found him in. To the right, all the way by his head, was a red splatter mark. Blood spray from the wound made by the gun. It wasn’t a lot of blood. Ian had already been dead before the shot, so blood flow had stopped, but the it occurred immediately after, so there was still some that leaked out.

“Fuck.” 

Mickey wanted to look away. He wanted it so fucking bad. To leave and clear this place from his mind, to bleach his brain and carry out his ‘keep Ian safe' plan. But this was his job. And if Ian was forced to be put through this hell, even if he was already gone when it happened, then he was tough enough to look. He would carry that burden along with everyone else in the room. 

“Aside from the blood, how did you know his body was like that?” Mickey motioned to the outline with his finger.

“From further back, you can see a difference in the floor under where the body was and the floor around it. Not to mention we collected samples from both areas, and it is clear that a body was laying there for a few days.”

Mickey nodded.

“And the blood splatter did help. We took DNA samples from everything. We are going over the entire freezer as well.”

“Any signs of a gun?” 

“No, sir. But we will go over it a few more times before we are done here so I will have them on the look out for it.”

Mickey didn’t look at her. Not once. He just kept looking at the outline. Ian had been left here, for days. Dead. Alone. Almost naked. Like trash. It pissed him the fuck off. Ian wasn’t trash. Ian was perfect. He was good and sweet and deserved to live a long happy life. Full of his family and love. To live. To live until he was meant to die. Not to be cut out like this. To be taken when he had everything to live for. 

“Anything else before I go?” 

“Not at the moment. We’ll be here for a few hours, then to the lab to run everything.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled and turned away from the shit that would be jammed in his mind for a long ass time. He weaved through the shelves until he was safely outside the freezer. Kicked off the booties and the gloves and stepped back over the tape.

Ian wasn’t there. 

Mickey looked around the dark, empty hallway, knowing that he wouldn’t find him but there was no way he wouldn’t try. He spent an hour searching the halls of the hospital. Up to Lishman's office again, bathrooms, hallways, closets. Everywhere. 

Nothing. 

“Ian, please don’t do this.” Mickey leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, reaching deep into himself for that spark. It was still there, bright and thrumming with energy, with love. Ian wasn’t gone like that, not like before. Maybe he was just taking a little break. Trying to clear his head and find a reason to hold onto all this when it seemed hopeless. 

“Ian, I know you’re there…somewhere.” He had his eyes closed, searching the depths of that darkness to find him. “I know shit feels bad right now, because it is bad, but please, just stay with me. You know I can’t do this without you.”

Silence. Nothing. No Ian. 

“I’m headed back to the precinct. Just, please meet me there.” He opened his eyes, looking around the empty hallway. “I love you.”

**

Mickey walked into the precinct like a man on a mission. An Ian mission. Operation: locate Ian. Just to make sure he was okay. To make sure he wasn’t leaving any time soon. From one sweep of the place, he didn’t see him. However, Yev was sitting at his desk again.

“Yev?” Mickey stopped at his desk, pulling Yev’s attention from the opened computer in front of him. “You okay?”

Yev nodded. “Yeah, why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I guess. Just didn’t think you’d be here.” Mickey felt his shoulders relax a little as he propped up on the edge of the desk. “What’s up?”

Yev looked around the crowded room. “Anywhere we can talk alone?”

It was kinda odd but not at the same time. Yev never asked to be alone and Mickey knew it was about Ian. He nodded and stood up. “Break room?”

Yev stood and tucked the laptop under his arm. “No, not there.”

Mickey could see the fear on his face. The break room wasn’t a good idea anyway. Anyone could just walk in. “Alright, come on.” He waited for Yev to follow and took him into the Crib, the rows of empty beds were…well, empty. He shut the door and flipped the shade, making sure they were alone. “So, what’s goin on?”

“Is Ian here?” Yev felt stupid looking around the empty room but he couldn’t help it.

Mickey sat on an empty bed, running his hands through his hair. “No Yev, Ian’s not here.”

Yev felt himself frowning. “What? Why not? I thought he couldn’t do anything without you.”

“Well,” he chuckled a little, “that’s true, but he’s just… he needed a little break after today.”

“What happened today?” Yev asked as he took a seat on the opposite bed. 

Yev didn’t need the details. Even if he was allowed to tell him, he wouldn’t. For the same reasons he didn’t want Ian to see. It was bad enough that Ian left when he didn’t see inside, Mickey didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if he had seen it for himself.

“We found a potential crime scene. It was bad, he didn’t see it, but he knew what it was.”

“D-did he leave again? Like last time?” Yev felt his voice shake a little. Uneasy. Emotional. 

“No, not like that.” He leaned forward and Yev squeezed his hand. “He’s not gone gone, I can still feel him but he’s, I don’t know, just somewhere else for a bit. He used to do it all the time in the beginning.”

“Is he gonna come back?”

“Yeah bud, he will. He just needs a break.” He smiled and Yev squeezed his hand once more before he pulled back. “Did you need to talk to him?”

Yev shrugged. “Kinda. I wanted to tell you first, but I guess since he isn’t here, it’ll be okay.” Yev opened the laptop and tapped a few keys.

“What is it?” Yev was acting kinda squirrelly. It was freaking him out.

“I told you I’d do some research, to help Ian and I did. Found a few things but I wanted you to hear it first.”

“Yeah, I found some shit too but all it did was freak me the fuck out and give me nightmares.” He laid back on the bed, feeling the events of the day taking its toll. The bad part was, it wasn’t even close to being over. He had three people to interrogate and evidence to sift through.

“What stuff?”

“Bad shit Yev.” He shook his head, not in the right head space to get into it. “What did you find? And if you say bad shit too just don’t tell me.”

“Don’t you want to know?”

“Of course I do.” Mickey sat back up and rubbed the center of his chest. He could feel that rubber band that connected him to Ian, stretching to accommodate the distance and it was unpleasant. “But with the shit I just saw and Ian not being here, I don’t think I can take anything that’s not good news.”

“Okay, well I did find some bad shit, as you say, so that’ll have to wait until later.” Yev clicked on the keyboard and spun it around for him to see. “But not all that ghost, spirit stuff is bad. Not everyone had an ‘unpleasant experience’ or whatever the hell they call it.”

Mickey snorted because that was true. Ian was not an unpleasant anything. “Okay, well what does it say?”

Yev pointed. “It’s right here.”

“Yev,” Mickey huffed, trying not to snap at him. “Bud, just recap for me, yeah? My fuckin brain hurts. I don’t wanna read that shit.”

Yev grinned and turned the laptop back to face him. “Well, I’ve read over a dozen witness accounts saying that they live with a ghost and shit is fine, yadda yadda yadda, but I did read a few that didn’t say that exactly. There was this woman, in Connecticut, her husband died in a robbery, got shot in the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.”

Mickey flinched. The similarities bugged him. 

“She kept saying she saw him after he died. Like all the damn time. Went to the cops and they didn’t believe her, ended up locking her up for a few months. But she still claimed to see him.”

If all this shit was supposed to make him feel better, it wasn’t working. Not a damn bit. He didn’t wanna think what would have happened if Yev hadn’t believed him, or if he and Ian would have been caught…well, Ian wouldn’t be caught but it would look like he was crazy fucking himself and talking to no one.

“Anyways, that happened for like a year, right and everyone in that town assumed she was crazy,” Yev held up his finger, sensing his dad’s attitude before he said anything, “but, a year after her husband died, the man who shot him, died. I think a few people said he was caught trying to rob someone else and they killed him.”

“Yeah well, karma is a bitch.” Mickey snorted, thinking the Lishman’s deserved a fate worse than Ian’s.

“Yeah, it is. And I think this lady had a shit load of good karma points, because her husband came back.”

Mickey stopped planning the Lishman's ‘accidental' deaths and looked at Yev. Trying to figure out if he was playin around or not. “Say what now?”

Yev grinned. “Yeah, I don’t know how or why, but he came back. Alive. Same body, no wounds or anything. Like a damn zombie without all those bad side effects.” Yev chuckled and quickly scanned the story again.

“Are you serious right now?” Mickey’s voice was low, trying not to get his damn hopes up over nothing. 

“Dad, I wouldn’t lie about this shit. I wasn’t there but the sources check out. I spent all night lookin that shit up.”

Was that the soul swap thing he found? A life for a life? Or the one about the spirit getting justice? There was a part of him that wanted to fully believe this. But shit on the internet was just that, shit. He could find an article about bigfoot and that fucker wasn’t real, right? But the rational part knew better than to put all his hopes and dreams into it. 

“Did anyone witness him coming back to life?” 

Yev shook his head. “No one witnessed the exact moment, he was dead a year, but people saw him walking from the cemetery, to his wifes house. No signs of being dead at all.”

“They dig up his grave, see if his body was there?” Mickey asked. He was going to annoy Yev with a counter question each time, but he needed more proof. 

“I bet they would have,” Yev shook his head when his dad tossed his hands up, “they would have, but the wife didn’t have the money for a burial. She had him cremated.” 

Mickey stared at him. Cremated? Dead and burned. No way to survive that shit. No way to dig up a body and claim he was never dead. No signs of how he died, no way on earth he could come back. Yet, he did. As himself, just after the man who killed him died.

“Dad, it’s real.” 

Mickey barely saw Yev move to sit next to him or place a hand on his shoulder. He just stared down, looking at his hands as small drops of water landed on them. Not water, tears. That’s why Yev was sitting by him. He was crying.

“It may not be the same with Ian. Maybe it won’t even work, but maybe we have to try.”

Mickey wiped his face. “Try? Yev, do you know what that means?”

Yev squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, I know what it means.”

Mickey shook off Yev’s arm and stood up. The shock had been replaced with temporary happiness, hope. That maybe Ian would be able to come back. To him, for him. But it wasn’t without a price and that pissed him off.

“Tell me then Yev, tell me what it means.” The time to keep calm was over. He had his quota for being good all filled up. 

“Dad, it’s worth it.” Yev spoke quietly but confidently. “For him to come back, it would be worth it.”

“What would? I want you to say it. Don’t say ‘it' will be worth it. Say the damn word.”

Yev stood up, shoulders back. “Killing them would bring Ian back.” 

Mickey stepped up to him, scowling harder because he had to look up to scowl at his son. “So, what? Just wait a year, go kill the person who killed Ian? What then? How the fuck do I explain that?”

“Does it even matter?” Yev yelled back. “We can just move away from here. Take him somewhere else and you two can be happy.”

Mickey backed off, slowly pacing back and forth by the door. “Sounds simple, apart from killing someone for that to happen.” Yev didn’t say anything. “Just kill someone, so I can be happy?”

Yev nodded. Not even ashamed of what he was about to say. “They deserve it dad. Ian should fucking be here. Not a damn ghost that people can’t see.”

“You got this all figured out then, don’t you?” Mickey leaned against the wall. Maybe he was being an ass right now, but Yev shouldn’t be so willing to kill someone so easily. “Just kill them, bring Ian back but he can’t see his family and move? You ready to move? To leave The Gallagher’s behind, Carl. You ready to leave Nick behind?”

Yev’s eyes went wide and Mickey knew he wasn’t sure about this shit anymore. Being excited to bring Ian back clouded the other shit they had to deal with. They’d have to move, Yev wouldn’t be able to see Carl, Ian could never see his family again. Not to mention Yev would have to give up Amara. That was a big fat no. 

“Yev…” he sighed and sat back down, pulling Yev to sit with him. “As much as I want Ian alive, as much as he deserves to be here, I don’t think it works the way you hope it does.”

Yev nodded, looking down. 

“I would have to kill someone Yev. Even if they deserve it, it’s not like that’s an easy thing to do.”

Yev nodded again and wiped his face. “I’m sorry.” 

“Never be sorry for wanting him back bud, I just don’t know if we can believe that.” Mickey squeezed him in a one armed hug, knocking their heads together. “I found some shit before that sounds like that. They call it soul swapping.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

“I’m not sure it is. I’d be afraid that whoever had to die, Ian might get stuck with part of them, and with the suspects I have, I wouldn’t want him to have to deal with them.”

Well fuck. He didn’t want to hear any bad shit and look at them now. Crying, feeling the loss of Ian like it had just happened a few hours ago. Finding hope, only to have it smashed to pieces. And to make it all worse, they didn’t have Ian here. He couldn’t give his opinion one way or another. 

“What do we do then?” Yev asked quietly, leaning on his shoulder.

“We do what we have been. We look up some different options. I work the case and we wait for Ian to come back.” 

There was a loud knock on the door before it opened. “Mickey?”

He turned around to see Olivia poking her head inside. “Yeah?”

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” She nodded and closed the door. Leaving them alone. “Just keep lookin, okay?”

Yev nodded and stood up, packing his bag. “You comin home?”

Mickey watched Yev walk to the door but stopped for an answer. “I’m gonna try bud but it might be a long night.”

“Will you call me when he comes back? Just so I don’t freak out?”

Mickey nodded. “I promise.”

Yev nodded and he turned away, trying to pull himself together before getting back to work.

“I found something else.” Yev spoke without turning back to face him. “It’s called Fading.”

Mickey’s heart clenched. 

“It’s happening, isn’t it?”

Mickey put a hand over his heart as it skipped a few beats. It hadn’t done that all day. Yev knew what was going on. Why Ian wasn’t there. “Yes, it is.” He said after a moment, unable to turn. Unable to say anything else. But Yev didn’t need much more after that. The door closed softly, and he was left alone, again.

**

Ian had been gone for two days, two whole days and nights. Just gone. Not a whisper, not a cold patch of air. Nothing. Nothing since Mickey left him by the entrance of the hospital. 

Two days of hell, of torture. Mickey had been going out of his mind. Unable to work, unable to focus. He didn’t eat, he never slept. 48 hours of nothing but fear, of heartache. Of no Ian. 

The Lishman's had been locked up. He had 72 hours to hold them without cause. After that, he’d need to charge them or let them go. He hadn’t talked to them yet. The only thing he had done, in between mild panic attacks and bawling his eyes out, was sift through all the evidence. 

Mickey pretty much had a good idea of what went down that night. Jimmy had been telling the truth. His dad never met him up front, because he was too busy picking up Ian in the back. A street cam tagged his car speeding away from The Fairy Tale at 4:15 A.M. only half an hour before the time of death. Jimmy’s mom had met him in the front, they had her on camera. But that didn’t let either of them off the hook.

Anyone could have slipped that patch on Ian’s arm and caused this entire thing. They had killed Ian slowly. Making him sluggish enough to manipulate into complying with them. Because he trusted them. It wouldn’t have taken much for Lloyd to talk Ian into getting a ride home with him. Too bad he never made it. 

The lower level security cameras didn’t work. But the cameras did catch Lloyd walking into the front of the building at nearly 5 that morning. Now, given that his wife was barely 5 foot 5, less than 120 pounds, there was no way she could have gotten Ian out of the car and into the freezer alone. Jimmy Lishman was looking like an accomplice.

They still had a few unanswered questions though. The gun, who injected Ian with the drugs that they used to cover up the fentanyl patch and where they came from. Who dumped Ian’s body back in the South Side? Those questions required an actual interrogation. Which was something he wasn’t up for yet. Or at all. 

Mickey pushed away from the table. He’s spread out the photos, pinned them to the cork board in order, all documents lined up, just to feel useful. But he needed a damn break. He pushed open the door and noticed that only a few people were still there. Olivia wasn’t one of them. If she left before him, it meant it was very late or very early.

Mickey didn’t go to the break room. He hadn’t been able to stomach any food, not even coffee. And being up for nearly three days without sleep or coffee, should have been enough to knock him on his ass. Instead, he just felt sick. Nauseous when he thought about eating anything.

He took the elevator to the bottom floor, feeling a mix between dread and relief when the doors opened to see that Mags was still in her office. He lightly tapped on the door and she smiled.

“Hey Mick, long night?”

He stepped inside but didn’t take a seat. “Long week it feels like.”

“I know you’re here for those labs from the freezer but they’re still running.”

Mickey waved it off. “I’m not here for that Mags.” 

She nodded and leaned back to cross her arms. “Alright, are you here to tell me about those sheets Olivia gave me?”

Even though that hadn’t been the main reason he came down here, he nodded. “I was.”

“Can you offer a reasonable explanation?”

He shook his head. He had an explanation, but she would never believe him. There was no reason to lie and say it would sound reasonable. He respected her too much to lie. “No Mags,” he sighed heavily, head pounding. “I can't.”

Mags studied him for a moment. “You look like shit.”

Mickey cracked his first real smile since Ian left. “Thanks.”

She stood up, in full doctor mode and put the back of her hand on his forehead. “I’m serious Mickey.” His skin was burning up, hot, feverish and clammy. “You sick?”

Was he? Yeah, he felt like shit. Had since Ian left. No sleep, no food. No Ian. Yeah, he felt sick. Heartsick, home sick. But literally? Be didn’t know for sure. 

“I’m just tired Mags.” He sighed and leaned against the desk for balance.

“Well, since you don’t have a reasonable explanation for me and look like you are about to pass the hell out, just save it. I’m certain I won't like the answer.”

Mickey smiled. She was letting him off the hook. “Thank you.”

“Only this once though, I can’t let it get out that I’m turning soft.” She smiled.

“No, we couldn’t have that.” He chuckled, feeling just a little better. “You mind if I…” He trailed off but nodded back at the row of freezers.

“Did you need to see him?” she asked, wiggling the keys.

It was odd that she didn’t even ask who. Of course he came down here for Ian. “No, I just wanna sit for a second. Is that okay?” 

It wan an odd request. As was everything that had happened since he got this case. One unanswered question after another. If he couldn’t see Ian or talk to him, if he wasn’t around, being close like this was the only thing he could think of.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Do you want me to leave?” 

Thank god for her. Really. Even with all that shade he’d been throwing at her, she still trusted him. She still asked, offered. Somehow, she knew he was taking his case hard and she didn’t give him hell for it. 

Mickey moved to the back wall and stopped in front of the freezer door that said Gallagher. He leaned his head against it, either too tired to care or knew she would get it, but he just closed his eyes and rested his head against it for a moment. 

Ian needed to come back. He had to. Their connection was so strong still, but it was creating a hole inside of him. Why didn’t he come back, especially after the last time? He ended up in the damn hospital because of it. 

“No Mags,” he lightly swept his thumb over Ian’s name before he turned to slide down to sit on the cold ground. “You don’t have to leave.” 

“You sure?”

Mickey crossed his legs, folded his arms and let his head lean back as he closed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He was half asleep the second he closed his eyes and wasn’t sure if he said this last part aloud or not. “Ian won’t show anyway.”

And he was out. Getting as close to Ian as he could and welcomed that cold, empty feeling where Ian used to be. Maybe this time he wouldn’t come back at all. Maybe Ian faded before he could solve the case, before he could bring him justice. Or maybe Ian just didn’t want this with him anymore…


	19. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yev has to take matters into his own hands when it's clear his dads down-spiral is getting worse with every day Ian is gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! So many fics, not enough time, then holidays..
> 
> This chapter will be in Yev's POV to get a look of the circumstances outside Mickey's POV

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 19-Justice

(Yev's POV)  
*Two days earlier*

Ian was gone. Just POOF. Plucked from their reality without so much as a goodbye, by some force neither him nor his dad could fight. They were helpless. Sitting on the brink of success and his dad had done everything in his power to slow it down. If they solved the case before Ian came back, or before finding out how to keep him on their plain, it would be over. 

The Lishman's already being in custody and finding Ian’s crime scene had it’s impact. He knew Ian was around. He dreamt about him. Sometimes if he was too tired but refused to sleep, he could see Ian in their house. Lost and alone, unable to communicate. They needed to figure out something quick…or he needed to. His dad was a little out of his mind. 

After Ian left, or was taken, it was clear that he wouldn’t be okay again until Ian came back to him. It was up to him to find out how to bring Ian back, how to save them both. Or lose them. If he knew anything about the connection Ian shared with his dad, that if Ian didn’t make it, if they couldn’t save him, his dad would die. 

Which is why he was up at 3 in the morning, sitting in his briefs on the end of the couch with every single paper from his research on spirits and ghosts, laid out on the table in front of him. He had to find a way, he had to keep trying. There was no other way. Ever since his dad said no to the soul swap, he’d been nose deep in paperwork. 

The cup of coffee was cold next to him, his eyes burned from too much caffeine, not enough sleep, crying too hard and lack of hope. He had hope when Ian was able to contact them, he had hope when he found the soul swap. When both of those were taken away and he was left alone. 

Yev shuffled through the papers, putting aside all the shit he already tried; séance, Ouija board, tarot cards, he even went to see some woman who claimed to be a Medium, someone who talks to the dead. That shit, none of it had worked. Yev set those into a pile and tried to focus on the ideas that wouldn’t get him locked away for life. 

Yev didn’t flinch when warm arms circled his waist from behind, pulling him back into all that warm, soft skin. 

“Baby…” Nick sat behind him, one leg on either side of his body and nuzzled his neck.

Yev craved the touch, he leaned back into it and tilted his head to the side, giving Nick more access to his neck. He was warm from sleep, his voice an octave deeper, dark hair a mess and those sleepy brown eyes. 

“You are supposed to be asleep.” Nick kissed after each word until he could suck on his ear. “With me.”

Yev nodded and felt bad for not being around as much. Blowing Nick off to find time for more research or to meet the next lunatic that promised to connect him with his loved one. Nick had taken a back seat lately and it was taking its toll on both of them. He missed him. So fucking bad. Even now, he was wrapped in Nick’s body, and knew he couldn’t stay for long.

“I’m sorry Nicky, I just can’t sleep.” He dropped the papers and covered Nick’s forearms with his hands, holding onto him as he snuggled back. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Nick nodded and buried his face into soft blonde hair. “I’d rather you toss and turn beside me or turn a light on and work in there so I can be close to you.”

Yev smiled and turned his face to the side and soft, pillowy lips kissed his cheek. “You have shit to do tomorrow. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Nick sighed deeply and caressed his face with his thumb. Back and forth over soft, flawless skin. “Baby, I want you to bother me. I want to help you, but I need to know what’s going on.”

The biggest problem with all of this, was keeping Nick in the dark. There was no way he could tell him. He didn’t know how to tell him and now that Ian wasn’t there to help him prove it. Nick tried to pry, wanted to be apart of whatever he was working on but Yev had kept him at arms length. 

Yev turned enough to be able to kiss him. He couldn’t lie again, and he couldn’t tell the truth. So he showed him the only thing he knew, was that he loved him. Nick kissed him back, cupping the side of his face as they kissed, swirling their tongues against each other. He could feel that heat pooling in his gut as Nick’s hands moved across his body.

“Yevy,” Nick breathed heavily as the kiss stopped, “come back to bed. I need you.”

Yev gasped against his lips and put his hand on top of Nick’s that was slowly moving to his briefs. “I just need a while longer Nicky, 20 minutes.” 

Nick nodded but his hand kept sliding down until he felt how hard Yev is. “20 minutes,” he moved to kiss over his bare shoulder, “or I’m coming back out to get you.”

Yev tilted his head back for another deep, satisfying kiss. “Promise, just a little while longer.” 

Nick slipped from behind him, leaving him colder than he had been before. It was nice knowing that Nick had been missing him, even as he slept. He didn’t know what that felt like before Nick, he didn’t know how lonely he was until he had to be alone again. 

He had his dad to thank for that. Even with the threats and the warnings of illegal activity, it was worth it to be together. 

“Okay,” he let out a deep breath and all thoughts of Nick naked in that bed were pushed to the back of his mind. “I’m gonna do this Ian,” he looked around the empty apartment, wondering if somehow Ian was there, “just work with me.”

It was clear that this magical juju and spirit talk was just that, all talk. He hadn’t come across a single thing that made him believe it could work. Well, that wasn’t try. Soul swapping was the only thing that spoke to him. Since he found that story, got rejected by his dad and tossed away the idea, it was all he could think about. 

Yev scooped up all the papers from the table and back into their folder and tossed it aside. No more beating around the bush here. That shit wasn’t going to work, so he had to embrace plan B. Figuring out a way for the soul swap. 

According to the research he and his dad found, a soul swap was only possibly when the victim was delivered justice in the form of his murders death. A soul for a soul. There were no clear directions or a how-to manual, no step-by-step instructions. Accidental, planned or natural causes; it didn’t say. No specifics.

Unlike his dad, Yev thought it was the best option. To bring Ian back, to have him alive and happy, was worth killing someone over. It would right the wrong, Ian’s death had been beyond wrong and they deserved to die for it, to make it right again. 

He needed Ian back probably more than his dad did. Either Ian’s permanent death would cripple his dad to the point of uselessness, or it would kill him outright. Being linked to someone so strongly and suddenly one half of the whole was gone, there was no way he would survive it. It had only been 2 days since Ian left and his dad was a fucking mess.

Yev gave a quick glance behind him, making sure Nick wasn’t lurking, before he lifted up and pulled a file from under the couch cushion. A thick file unmarked but full of information he shouldn’t have. The only perk to his dad being busy at work, was that he left his files at home, along with his laptop. 

It wasn’t hard to get the needed information on The Lishman's. Google would provide the quickest information, but that shit could be traced back to him or his dad and whenever he did what he was planning to do, he didn’t need any evidence of it. At least on paper, it was one copy that he could dispose of when it was time.

With shaky hands, Yev opened the file and spread it all out. His dad had called him just after Ian left saying the Lloyd Lishman times 3, had been taken into custody. That made his plan a little harder. He would have to find a way to get at them from inside the station, instead of at their house in the North Side. It made it harder. But doable. Yev knew the station like the back of his hand, he knew everyone in that place and when and where they were supposed to be.

Being a detectives kid was finally going to come in handy. He knew his way in and out of a crime scene, between tv and his dad, he was an expert. If he did this, when he did it, he knew how to make it look like an accident or worse. He just needed to be in the right place at the right time.

It was easy to sketch a layout of the station house. All the ins and outs, camera positions and the rooms. It had been harder getting the layout for the Lishman house but as soon as his dad told him they were in custody; he hopped the first bus to the North Side. He didn’t need to break in for that information, every house on that block was the same. Each and every house had the same layout, all he had to do was stick close to a family that was viewing an open house across the street and he was in.

He didn’t break the law, no one could prove he was there, and he’d been in and out in under half an hour. The house was plan A. The station was plan B. And it was looking like B would be the one he’d have to take. Soon too if he wanted to get at them before they got locked away for the rest of their lives. As soon as his dad and Olivia had all the information in order, they would be charged with murder and carted off to jail. He had a limited amount of time to do it.

The shrill ring of his phone made him jump and scramble to toss the papers haphazardly into the file and stack the other one on top of it. He looked around as he grabbed it and surprisingly enough Nick wasn’t there. He looked down at his phone and narrowed his eyes. His dad was calling at nearly 4 in the morning. 

“Hey, everything okay?” He kept his voice low, trying not to draw Nick’s attention in case it had something to do with Ian. 

“Hey bud, hope I didn’t wake you.”

Shit, he sounded rough. Too many smokes and coffee and not enough sleep. It was dangerous, considering he had a damn heart attack not one week ago. Too much stress and now that Ian was gone; again, he was at risk for another one.

“You didn’t, I was up already.” He glanced at the file, feeling antsy that maybe his dad picked up a dash of clairvoyance and knew his master plan. Paranoid much? Oh wait, that’s what happens when you plan a goddamn murder, or two. 

“Yev, it’s almost 4 in the morning. What the hell you doin up still for?”

He decided not to lie. To bring up this soul swapping thing. He shot it down before, just after Ian left. They were desperate now. He hadn’t been gone this long before. 

“Can’t sleep, thinkin too much. Decided to go over all that shit I found again, trying to make sense of it.” 

“Yev, you’ve been through it so many times. We have been and the answer is still no.”

He didn’t snap at him. His dad just sounded tired, run down. At the end of his rope, all that rock bottom shit. Hopelessness. 

“Dad, it’s been over 27 hours since we saw him. You said it didn’t take that long for him to come back last time.” He argued, trying to point out the obvious so he might give in. 

“You don’t think I know that Yev, huh? You think I don’t know how fucked I am right now?”

Yev swallowed back his snappy reply. It wouldn’t help. His dad was in a bad place. Too bad to consider it at all. He should have known better than to think he had someone on his side. It would have been nice to not be alone with this.

“Baby?”

Yev looked back to see Nick leaning against the wall. There was nothing to show he’d heard what they spoke about, he simply tapped his wrist, where his watch would have been to let him know it’s been over 20 minutes.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s Nick dad.” He sighed, knowing his dad didn’t want to hear that but what else could he do, lie? He wouldn’t lie about his feelings for Nick or about where he was. “Did you need me for something?”

“Yeah, uh, the Lishman's have a hearing tomorrow morning. The evidence isn’t all processed yet, but they are trying to make bail.”

Yev cursed and Nick came to him immediately, scooped him up and placed him on his lap, letting him lean against him. “Fuck, you think they’ll make it?”

“I have a good feeling. Even with the charges against them, they are an upstanding family. No priors, he’s a fuckin doctor, she’s a damn charity case. Charity work out their asses. Not to mention they have more money then we ever will.”

Nick rubbed up and down his sides, nearly luring him to sleep. Certainly making him feel better, more relaxed. “Is there anything we can do to stop it?”

“Unless the judge says no, I doubt it. They’ll probably be back home by tomorrow afternoon.” 

Home? Not in the station…Plan A was suddenly within his grasp. He could hit them at home, safe from dozens of cops and cameras. Bail might be the best thing to happen to him and his dad in a long time. It practically put them in the ground.

“Are you going to be there?” Yev asked, being pulled out of the murderous thoughts in his head by Nick’s hands running up and down his legs. 

“Damn right I am. Now, even if they make bail, we still have a case to bring against them and that little asshole son of theirs. This doesn’t mean they get away with it. After, they’ll schedule another court date and we can go from there.”

“I want to be there.”

“No Yev, you need to stay away from all this shit. Stay with Amara or your mom but don’t come here.”

That was the first time his dad recommended Nick’s as a safe, decent place to spend his time. He must really be worried about this shit to suggest that. “I’ll be with Nick, but you have to promise to call and let me know what they say.”

“I promise Yev.”

He smiled when Nick nuzzled against his neck, his hand moving up to the inside of his thigh. “I mean it Dad, none of that I promise shit and I don’t hear from you for three days. I want to know as soon as you walk out or I’m coming up there.”

“Fuck Yev, fine. Just stay the fuck away until then.”

The call went dead, and he tossed his phone across the couch and fell against Nick, feeling exhausted. “Fuck.”

“Bail hearing?”

Yev nodded. “Tomorrow morning. Dad won’t let me go.” He grabbed both of Nick’s hands and held them tighter around him. “I want to be there.”

Nick sucked against his neck, trying to find that special spot just on the bend of his neck. “You don’t need to see that baby. If they make bail, you won’t want to watch them walk out.”

Yev tilted his head as Nick found it, sucking on it gently. He squeezed his hands tightly and let out a low groan. “I want to be apart of all of it.”

“And we only want to protect you.” Nick mumbled. 

Yev moved quickly, he turned and straddled his lap, one leg on each side. They both groaned as his ass sat right against his naked groin. “I can protect myself.”

Nick slid his hands up Yev’s thighs and around to his ass, making him rock forward against his lap. “Yes you can baby, but we love you and we do shit like this for a reason.”

Yev groaned and gripped his bare shoulders. “I don’t wanna talk anymore Nicky,” he moved against him, “take me to bed.”

Nick kissed him as he stood up, Yev locked his legs around naked hips and groaned as Nick squeezed his ass as he walked them back into their room. He managed to kick the door closed just as a hand slipped down the back of his boxers.

“Oh Nicky…”

**

The entire morning came and went before he even noticed it was light outside the dark curtains in the room. His heart beat fast, galloping out of his chest as his legs ceased their shaking, sweat clung to his body as Nick rolled off him, sinking into the bed next to him.

“Goddamn Yevy,” Nick gave a satisfied chuckle, “you are going to kill me with sex.”

Yev smiled as he stretched his arms and legs; sore from being bent at the same angle for half an hour. He turned on his side, rolling into Nick’s arms to lean their sweaty foreheads together. “Gotta keep up Nicky, I’ll want more in about 10 minutes.”

Nick growled and kissed him, both of them panting wildly into each other’s mouths. Their legs intertwined, rubbing the come and sweat all over them. Their hips began to rock, eliciting more noises.

“Baby, please.” Nick groaned as he fisted blond hair and pulled away. “You’re gonna be late for school.”

Yev smirked and ran his hands over Nick’s sides, then to his hard stomach. “I told you I wasn’t going. I needed a personal day.” He pushed his hips forward again, feeling that spike of over sensitivity wash over them. “I need this Nicky; I need you to distract me until he calls.”

His dad had yet to call and it was already rolling around noon time. He’d been sated as they fell asleep and woke up with an unusual sexual appetite that only Nick could cure him of. Even after their orgasms came and went, not but 10 minutes later he was ready to go again. 

“What are you going to do when he calls?” Nick asked and brushed Yev’s sweaty hair back to see his blue eyes. 

Yev looked away from his eyes and down at his chest. If he was going to lie, he couldn’t look at him. It felt wrong to lie in the first place but seeing those soft loving brown eyes, knowing he was lying, it was too much. 

“I’m gonna stop by the station and see where he’s at with the case. Carl and Lip keep calling, asking if my dad has made any headway and I have to tell them he isn’t allowed to talk about it.”

He moved his fingers across the tattoos up his left side, following the careful lines up to his ribs. “I want to be able to tell them something.”

Nick nodded and kissed his forehead. “As soon as he knows baby, you’ll know. Then you can tell them what you know.”

Yev nodded, his hand stopped above Nick’s heart and wondered how he would be able to deal with it if it had been Nick taken from him, like Ian was taken from his dad. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. His dad couldn’t. Why would he be able to?

“Nicky,” he tilted his head until he could look into his eyes, “you know I love you, right?”

Nick narrowed his eyebrows. “Of course I know that Yevy. Why do you have to ask me?”

Yev knew he was young for this type of relationship. Not just sex either. Kids his age and younger did far worse than sleep with an older guy. Probably not his dad’s partner but shit like that…it happened sometimes. 

“I just don’t want you to think that this is a phase, something I’ll grow out of next year or some dumb shit like that.” He moved closer to kiss him. “I’m gonna feel this way for a long time.”

Nick gripped his hand and kissed over soft knuckles before he pressed it to his cheek. “I know that Yevy, I know it’s real for you and for me. We wouldn’t have risked it if it wasn’t.” 

Would Nick still love him if he knew what was floating around in his mind? Or if he found the incriminating file, pretty much details about his newest indiscretion? He was contemplating the murder of two people. Far from innocent but under the law, committing murder wasn’t usually a capital offense. 

“Baby?” Nick prompted with a tug on his head when Yev didn’t answer. 

Yev blinked away the thoughts, trying not to overthink. If he did this, more like when, no one would know about it. There wouldn’t be that threat of abandonment. Nick couldn’t leave him for something if he didn’t know about it. 

“Just thinking Nicky,” he moved closer to nuzzle his chest, “is there ever anything I could do that would make you not want to be with me?” he cringed at the question, it wasn’t something one brought up so casually.

“Yev, what’s going on?" Nick asked, worried.

Yev shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. I Just don’t want to lose you for any reason.”

“There is nothing you could do to make me leave Yev. Nothing. I want you for always.”

Yev swallowed past that lump in his throat, too many emotions welling to the surface. As much as he wanted to talk about all the shit he couldn’t talk about, they needed to move past this conversation or Nick would get all his answers. 

Yev rolled onto his back, one arm still wrapped around Nick’s neck as he tugged at him. “I don’t wanna talk anymore.”

Nick took the hint and rolled back on top of him, so he settled between his legs. His arms went on either side of Yev’s head, boxing him in. “I know you’re planning something baby. I see all those secrets behind your beautiful blue eyes.”

Fuck. Yev looked away, just like a guilty person would do. It was easy to lie if you didn’t have to look anyone in the eye. What was worse, Nick wasn’t mad. Worried, curious, wanting to help, but not mad. 

“Nicky…”

Nick shook his head and let his fingers brush through Yev’s hair. “No more lies Yev. I get it, you can’t tell me. And after this, I won’t ask. But no more lies, okay?”

That was more than reasonable. “You know if I could tell you, I would.” He was relieved when Nick nodded. “Maybe after…” he trailed off and ran his hands over smooth sides. “It’s just complicated.” 

Nick nodded and balanced his weight on one arm so his other one could slip down their bodies, gripping himself. He groaned as he gave a few strokes to full hardness before he lined himself up with Yev’s body and put his arm back up to his head.

“If I can help,” he groaned as he started to push forward, sliding in a little each time, “you need to let me know and I’ll do my best and I won’t ask why.”

“Nicky,” Yev lifted his head so it knocked against his, “I always need you.” 

They kept groaning, panting and rocking against each other until Nick bottomed out, his hips flush with Yev’s ass. Yev wrapped his legs around him as tightly as he could, his arms too and Nick did the same until there was no room between them. 

That first slow, deep thrust Yev closed his eyes as his body absorbed it. “I’ll always need you Nicky, always.”

Nick gasped against pouty, quivering lips. “I’m here baby, I’m always here for you.”

Yev let those words bounce around in his mind over and over. Words that he would need to make it through when this was all over and done with. When he brought Ian back to his dad. When he made the Lishman’s pay and definitely when his actions kept him up at night, when they haunted his dreams. 

**

Yev looked out the window as he Nick parked his car outside the precinct. His dad never called. He waited and waited and had Nick distract him for the better part of the day, but there was no call. There was no answer when he’d broken down and called his dads phone, ready to bitch him out only to get his voice mail.

Something was wrong. He could feel it. 

“Can I please come in with you?” Nick asked as he tapped his thumbs against the wheel.

Yev shook his head sadly. “No Nicky. I’m pretty sure the entire place knows about us and I’d rather not see you get arrested.”

He didn’t know for sure that people knew, but he could feel a change whenever he stepped into the building. Eyes watching him, judging him. Not that he cared what people thought, the only issue was they were a bunch of fucking cops and Nick still technically worked there. At least until his sabbatical was up and he could decide where to get transferred to.

“They don’t know baby. If they did, I would be in jail.”

Yev smiled at him. “Fuckin fine. But we can’t just walk in there together or they will know.”

Nick grinned and pulled Yev closer by the buttons on his heavy jacket. “Separate works for me too baby, just as long as I can be in there.”

Damn this man and that adorable grin. Yev nipped his bottom lip, successfully making his smile drop. “You’re lucky I fucking love you so much.”

Nick cupped his face. “Very, very lucky.” He kissed him, something soft and quick. “I’ll be in there talking to Fuller, but don’t leave without me.”

Yev nodded and they both got out of the car. Nick let him go first, not a surprise, he liked to do shit like that. Let him go first, holding doors or pulling out his chair. Romantic shit. He loved it. It always made him blush, that lovely flutter in the bottom of his belly. 

The precinct was quiet, or quieter than it normally was. He didn’t like it. It meant that something bad had happened and everyone was keeping to themselves, working as quickly and quietly as possible. The only thing that was that high profile at the moment was the murder of Ian Gallagher. 

It had started out at the bottom of the barrel, a stripper that overdosed. Not a big deal. Until it became clear that Ian was more than his job description. He was a kind, loving man who did everything he could for his family. The victim of mental illness and abuse, then bring in high rollers like Lloyd Lishman, North Side doctor and it had turned into a high profile case. Everyone wanted a piece, the press wanted more than that and all his dad wanted to do was lock those rich assholes up and be able to keep his boyfriend.

Yev immediately looked to his dads cluttered desk, just to see it empty. He looked around the room, through all the familiar faces; Olivia, Elliot, a few others he was familiar with but not his dad.

“Yev, whatcha doin here?” 

He turned to see Olivia smiling at him, ushering him closer to her desk. As the door opened beside him, knowing Nick needed to come in, he headed towards her desk with a smile and did everything in his power not to turn and look at his boyfriend. 

“Hey Liv, how’s it goin?”

She smiled and perched on the edge of her desk. Her chair was stacked to the top with files. “Not too good actually. Been a hectic morning.”

“Yeah, I can feel it.” He looked around and caught Nick’s hair before he slipped inside Fuller's office. “Hey, you seen my dad? He was supposed to call me after court this morning and never did.”

Yev watched Olivia break eye contact and it only solidified his assumptions. Court had gone as he wanted, the Lishman's made bail. Normally a bad thing to the cops involved, to his dad but this was a gift. It opened shit wide up for him to get it done. 

“Your dad wasn’t at court today Yev.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, he told me he was going and that he’d call me after.”

Olivia smiled sadly. “He called me and asked me to go for him. And before you ask, the answer is no.”

“No?” 

She nodded. “No, he didn’t tell me why and I didn’t ask.”

Relief from their release vanished and panic started to set in. His dad didn’t miss shit like this if he could help it. Only something out of his control would be able to keep him from doing his job. 

And then it hit him. The only time he took a break from this case, was because he was in the hospital. “Fuck, fuck!” He nearly yelled. His entire body was freaking out. He was sweating, panting, his hands shook, and his stomach twisted in knots.

“Yev, what is it?” Olivia moved off her desk to grab his shoulder.

“He never misses shit like this. Never. It’s his damn job.” He looked at her with wide eyes, trying to make her understand. “He wouldn’t.”

“Yev, this case has been kicking all our asses. They didn’t even need him there this morning. He probably just crashed in the Crib.”

Yev’s head shot up and he didn’t say anything as he shoved passed everyone and headed to the Crib. The door was unlocked as he walked in, hoping to see him. But each bunk was empty. All 5 rows of shitty beds were made, unused. 

“Goddamn it!” 

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

He turned and Olivia looked worried as well. And she should be. “Liv, my dad doesn’t do shit like this. He wouldn’t just miss court unless he was made to.”

Her eyes widened. “Shit check this entire place Yev. Top to bottom.”

Yev nodded as he bolted out the door behind her, going in opposite directions. Other cops fanned out as well, some headed upstairs while others headed down, trying to help. 

Even Fuller's office door opened, and the captain and Nick came out. He took one look at Nick and he came rushing over. Both hands cupping his head, pulling him close. Yev didn’t care about their age difference here, or the fact they everyone stopped to stare at them. He was freaking the fuck out. The rest could wait.

“Baby, what is it?”

“My dad missed court this morning. This is about Ian, Nick. He wouldn’t miss it unless he had to.” Tears fell down his cheeks and Nick swept them away with his thumbs.

“Take it easy, just think. Your dad wouldn’t go home, he isn’t in the Crib sleeping. Where else would he go?”

Yev focused on Nick’s deep breathing as he thought about it. Deep breath in, slowly breathe out. He put one hand on his neck, feeling his pulse as it calmed him.

“Where would he go? Nick asked again quietly. 

Yev’s eyes opened. “Ian.” He said quickly but it was clear that Nick needed more. “He would probably be with Ian.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “So, the morgue?”

Yev smiled and nodded quickly before breaking away from him to run to the elevator. He hit the button until it glowed. Then a few more times hoping it would hurry it up. He looked up, seeing the elevator slowly descend to his level.

“Come on, come on!” He slapped at it again and it only seemed to go slower. “Fuckin shit!” He hissed and moved passed the elevators and took the stairs. 

Down and down, each awful flight of stairs. The morgue had to be on the bottom. The morgue. The one place be never liked to go. It felt haunted, dark and awful. Probably the cleanest part of this entire place but he made the mistake of going down there once and that row of freezers gave him nightmares.

Yev pushed open the door, out of breath. The air lock door was shut. He could see inside a little bit and noticed that Mags' desk was empty. He walked forward one slow step at a time, feeling his heart pound in his chest and images of finding his dad unconscious in the break room filtered through his mind. 

The door gave that little hiss ass the air lock was broken when he came too close. The sound made him jump and the air coasting over him made him realize that he was sweating like crazy. He didn’t think he could stomach it if he found his dad like that again. Surviving one heart attack was impressive, he didn’t want to find out that it happened again.

“Dad?” Yev called, his voice low so it didn’t disturb anyone. Anyone being the bodies. It was an odd thought, but he whispered any time was down there.

The further in he walked, the colder it became until those haunting freezers came into view. Two rows of them, each with a small card in the front that read the name of whoever was in it. 

His dad was sitting on the floor, his back against them. His arms were crossed, warding off the cold and he looked a little paler than normal. 

“Oh dad,” he sighed and walked closer. He could see the rise and fall of his chest, so he knew he was alive. But he was far from okay. 

How long had he been down there? Since that call at nearly 4 this morning? Or maybe it was after he got the news from court. He couldn’t handle them being let out and came down to be with Ian in the only way he knew how. 

Yev glanced up to see Ian’s name written on one of those little cards. He swallowed thickly, feeling dread and sorrow pour down on him. Ian was in there, alone. Cold. Dead. Something that never hurt so much until after he was able to see him. Then he left and it was like losing him all over again.

He quickly rested a shaky hand on the freezer before he knelt down. “Dad?” He touched his face and it was cold to the touch, too cold. “Dad, wake up.” He lightly shook him and aside from a deep groan, he didn’t move.

“Shit.” He shrugged his jacket off and covered the front of his body with it, bunching the fur on the hood up against his dad’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you outta here.” He moved back and grabbed his phone, only to see Nick stepping off the elevator.

“You find him?”

Yev nodded and stepped aside. Nick’s eyes went wide, clearly freaked like he was. “He’s alive and it doesn’t feel like it did before. I think he’s just exhausted.”

Nick let out a deep breath and pulled Yev in for a hug. They both needed it. “We should get him to the hospital.”

Yev pulled back and shook his head. “We need to warm him up first. This damn place is one big ass freezer. I don’t know how Mags sits in here.”

“Let’s get him up to the Crib and find Mags. She can tell us if we need an ambulance.”

Yev turned back and knelt down. Fuck, he looked worse then he sounded a few hours ago. Dark circles under his eyes, face all scruffy from not shaving. He even looked a lite thinner. Like he didn’t consume anything besides coffee. 

“Can you carry him?” Yev asked as he looked back.

Nick nodded and knelt down. He pulled Mickey over one shoulder and stood up. “Go find Mags, I’ll take him up.”

Yev kissed him quickly and darted out of the morgue and headed down the same hallway it was on. There were a few rooms down here as well, labs and those expensive ass machines. The first room he checked was empty, but he found her in the next one, arms deep inside one of the machines.

“Mags?”

She jerked up and banged her elbow. “Shit Yev, you scared me!” she shook it off and wiped her dirty hands on her coat. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for my dad.”

“A few hours ago he was in my office. I had to take care of a few things down here but I’m sure he had to go back to work.”

“How long ago?” Yev asked and showed her his watch.

“Uh, four hours give or take. He just wanted to sit there, with the Gallagher kid. I stayed for a bit but left.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “He seemed a little emotional. Mumbling shit to himself and I felt out of place there. I just wanted to give him some space.”

Shit. His dad had gone down there to be closed to Ian and didn’t give a damn if he hadn’t been alone. He was hurting, lost and a little broken. Ian still hadn’t come back. 

“What was he saying?” 

“I asked him if he wanted me to leave and he said no, that Ian wouldn’t show anyways.”

His dad was hoping Ian would come back if he was closer to him. It made a little sense. He would have done it too but not for four hours. “I was worried because I hadn’t heard from him. He was still in your office.”

Her eyes widened. “This entire time? But it’s freezing in there.”

“Amara took him up to the Crib. Can you come and check on him? Amara wants to know if he needs a hospital.” Yev nodded down the hallway and she followed instantly.

“Was he conscious?”

Yev hit the button on the elevator. “He seemed like he was asleep. And he responded when I put my jacket on him. That’s why I wanted to hold off.”

Mags nodded. “It might just be exhaustion. He hasn’t looked good in nearly 3 days. Been here the whole damn time and you know how he is.”

The elevator opened and they both stepped in. “Yeah, I know. This case is fucking killing him and after that first trip to the hospital, I’m worried.”

“I am too.” She squeezed his arm just as the door opened. “But don’t worry, we’re gonna make sure he’s okay.”

Yev nodded and followed her out. Olivia was pacing by the door, but Mags just shoved her out of the way and went in. Nick was already inside, sitting beside his dad, making sure he was bundled under a few blankets. 

“Good, you found her.” Olivia sighed and wiped the sweat off her face.

He nodded. Watching as Mags pushed Nick away and started checking his dad out. He turned back to Olivia, not caring if this was out of place or not the time. He needed to know. 

“Liv, did the Lishman’s make bail?”

“Yev, this isn’t the time for that.”

“Just tell me,” he yelled, making her jump a little. “He was down there for hours, after the court time. So whatever happened might explain why he’s been MIA for all that time.”

“Fine, yes. The doctor and his drunk wife made bail. The son not so much because of his history for disappearing.”

They made bail. They were probably home, sleeping it all off. The 48 hours hold in an uncomfortable holding cell with shitty food and cops all around. Not like he cared, well that’s not true. He did care. This would be the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan.

“Thank you.” He smiled when Olivia squeezed his shoulder. He gave a small knock on the door before he opened it.

Nick was standing with his arms crossed and the second he stepped in, the urge to pull those strong arms around him nearly took over. Nick looked the same. Like he was about to crack from the distance between them. 

“How is he?” He asked Mags instead of climbing Nick like a tree. 

Mags stood up. “He’s fucking exhausted. Days without sleep, or food or anything. Too much work.”

Yev let out a deep breath, Nick did too. “Does he need to go to the hospital?”

“No, they’d just do what I’m about to do.”

“And what’s that?” he looked past Mags to see his dad shifting on the bed, eyebrows drawn in like he was dreaming.

“I’m going to put him on an IV. I’m almost certain he is dehydrated so that will knock that out enough, so I’d feel comfortable with him going home to sleep this off.”

"And he can go home after?”

Mags smiled and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, he can go home. When he wakes up, make sure he eats. I would recommend no work until he feels better but we both no that is a fat chance.”

Both Yev and Nick laughed. It wasn’t funny but it showed that they all knew his dad equally well. “Okay, sounds good. Does he need to be moved again for the IV?”

Mags shook her head. “Not at all. I’m gonna head downstairs and get what I need. I’ll let Olivia know that she needs to talk to Fuller so Mick can go home.”

“Thank you.” He hugged her, startling the shit out of her but he couldn’t help it. He was so freaked, relieved and nervous at the same time, he just moved. “Thank you.”

Mags sighed and squeezed him tightly. “Don’t worry kid, we like him too much to let anything bad happen.”

Yev smiled. It was nice to know that so many people cared about his dad like this. Probably the whole department. He had always worried about his dad not having anyone special. No one close to him. Only it wasn’t like that. Maybe it hadn’t been like that at all. His dad had always had people. Him, Nick, Mags, all the guys he worked with. 

Then he had Ian. Even if it was only for a short amount of time, he had him completely. Love had been forged from tragedy. Sickly sweet. Enviable. That’s the kind of love he had for Nick. One that sweeps you away before you realize it. One had consumes you. 

“I’ll be right back.”

Yev nodded moved back so she could leave. The second that door closed; Nick was on him. Rushing at him until he was being lifted from the floor by his sides and backed up against the wall. As sexual as it seemed, they both knew it wasn’t. Life-scares like this put people in a funny mood. They needed to be close to their loved ones. They needed to feel warm skin and hear their hearts beating. It was the only thing to calm them.

“Baby,” Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I know,” his hands moved up Nick’s sides, keeping him close. “It’s okay. He’s okay.”

Nick nodded. “You’re okay, we are.” He kissed his lips. “We’re okay baby.”

“God, I love you.” Yev held both sides of his neck, keeping his face as close as possible. “So fucking much.”

Nick groaned, kissing over every smooth inch of his face. “I love you too Yevy, always.”

This is where he wanted to be. With Nick, always. He wanted his dad to be okay, to be with Ian and have them all happy and together. Which is why he needed to go. He had to leave and do one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. 

“Nicky,” he took a deep breath and tried not to fight it. He had to leave. “I gotta go.”

Nick pulled back. “Go? Go where?”

“I can’t tell you.” He felt his heart beating fast. “I said I wouldn’t lie, but I have to go.”

Nick sighed and nodded. “You need to be careful baby. Whatever it is, whatever makes you keep it from me, you need to be safe.”

Yev hugged him close, pushing his face into his neck, breathing him in deep. “I promise I will. Can you stay with him and Mags? Just until he can go home?”

“Of course. I can take him home too. Mags shouldn’t take long.” 

“I should be back right after. I’ll check on him and call you?” he asked as he pulled back and searched his eyes. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“I just wish you could tell me. Or that I could help.” 

“You do help Nicky, you being here with me, not making me tell you shit I can’t, that’s helping. No one else would understand why I need this.” 

“You better go then. Just call me when or if you need me. I won’t ask, I promise. But I’m worried.”

Yev grabbed both of Nick’s hands and put them to his face, nuzzling against them. “South Side Nick, I know how to handle myself. Promise.” It was the only thing he could say, the one thing he knew to be true. He could handle himself. Nick knew it, his dad knew it too. It didn’t matter that this South Side rule didn’t apply here. He didn’t want Nick to worry. 

When Nick nodded, he gave him one last kiss before he walked out. He needed to do this now, right now. It was just now getting dark; the Lishman’s would be sound asleep. He only had one shot at this. There wasn’t any room for error or second guessing himself. 

Either he was walking away, and Ian would be back, alive and able to stay, or he would be dead. The plan could go wrong. There were too many variables, but he was running out of time. One shot. One chance to bring Ian back. He wouldn’t fail.

**

Yev stood in the middle of the living room, staring off into space. The apartment was dark, quiet. Giving him enough time to process what exactly happened. It still didn’t feel real. Not taking the bus to the North Side, not entering the Lishman house, not even during… Not on the bus back home or as he climbed the stairs. 

How did he know it was real? Because he’d been shaking like a leaf since he left the house. He knew because those images were burned into his mind, forever haunting him. Or reminding him that he had the strength and willingness to do whatever it took to get Ian back, and that’s exactly what he’d done. Whatever it took. 

It may have been the blood spatter on his clothes. Not yet dried but not as wet as it had been. Not as warm either. It had been near scalding hot as it landed in drops on his face, a little splashed across his shirt and over the toes of his shoes. It might have been the metallic smell lingering around him. 

He did manage to text Nick on the way home, letting him know that he was okay. Nick asked, nearly begged to come and get him, or meet him. Anything really, as long he could see him. To see first hand that he was okay. Yev couldn’t. If he talked to Nick now, even on the phone, he would break, and he couldn’t afford that right now. His dad was hurt, in more ways than physically, that it was up to him to keep shit together for the both of them.

Was it worth it? Risking everything, his future, his life and the life he had with Nick and his dad? Was coming home covered in blood, his mind a broken, jumbled mess worth it? At first, he didn’t know. Ian had not been there at the end. Not a sign of that red hair or familiar happy smile. Nothing. Nothing on the walk to the station, making sure to cover his bloody shirt by zipping up his jacket. 

In fact, it didn’t happen until he was nearly getting off the station. He saw a flash of red, then green. A white smile, all teeth. That goofy laugh. All broken up within an hour. When he got off the train, he felt a hand on his shoulder but as soon as he looked back, it was gone. Maybe it was Ian trying to come back, trying to get his foothold into their reality until he could fully stay, or maybe he really had lost his mind or had fallen asleep and dreamed all those things.

The tears didn’t start until the walk home. Until he heard his name loud and clear in the dead of night. There was no way his fractured imagination conjured that up. Ian was there, somewhere. He had to be. None of this, nothing he risked was worth it unless Ian was here. 

Yev walked slowly down the hallway, past his room and stood in front of his dad’s. The door was closed, but not locked. He opened it and saw him shifting on the bed, clearly asleep and on his left side, one hand upright, palm up as if he was waiting for Ian to take the other side of the bed and link their hands. But at least he was alive. 

His old clothes were tossed into a corner with his boots, his gun belt properly disposed of on the side table. There was also an empty bowl, some sort of food. At least that means his dad ate a little as Mags had demanded and Nick delivered on.

Yev walked to the side of the bed and pulled the blanket up, tucking it just below his jaw. Then softly brushed dark hair back from his eyes. “Don’t worry dad,” Yev looked around the empty room, “he’s gonna be here soon.”

“Ian…” Mickey mumbled, his hand curling in on itself.

Yev sighed again as he walked out, making sure to close the door behind him. He needed a shower, needed to get rid of his clothes and try and come to grips with what he’d done. To convince himself it was real and worth it. 

He rubbed his eyes as he walked down the hallway, stumbling past his room, wanting to see if there was any left over beer in the fridge, getting buzzed might be just what he needed. Yev walked into the kitchen and grabbed the last beer from inside. 

As he turned around, the light above him flickered. On and off, rapidly followed by longer bouts of darkness before it kicked back on. Yev looked up when it stayed lit and let out a deep breath. One that he could see. Like he was out in the cold and seeing his every breath. The room dropped nearly 10 degrees, making it positively freezing inside.

Yev set the beer down and when he looked up, the light flickered one more time before he was seeing bright red hair and green eyes standing by the front door. Yev let out a little sob, managing to catch himself before it got to be too loud. Ian was standing near the door, looking right at him.

“Ian?” Yev asked, voice barely there, sounding as weak and helpless as he felt in this moment.

Ian smiled and held his arms out. “Hey kid, miss me?”

Yev felt the tears came just seconds before he took off at a dead run, bolting through the space between them until he flung himself at Ian. He didn’t pass through him, he didn’t fall. He slammed into him as hard as he could, until it knocked the air from his lungs and the tears flowed so heavily, he could hardly see. Long arms wrapped around his back, holding him as tight as he possibly could.

“Ian,” he repeated again but it hardly sounded like his voice anymore.

“Shhh,” Ian whispered, trying to choke back his own tears, “it’s okay Yevy, I gotcha.”


	20. Come Back to Me

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 20- Come Back to Me

*Ian’s POV*

Ian didn’t fully understand what was happening or what had already happened. One minute, he was standing near the entrance of that awful freezer in the hospital, watching Mickey leave him there, to spare him the horrors of what waited for him inside. 

The next minute, he was gone. Not dead, not all the way at least but Mickey was gone. He stood at the entrance of the same freezer, alone. Everything was dark, all the colors were missing, leaving everything in shades of black and gray. The freezer was empty, none of the 15 or so people where there. Just him. 

No warmth of the sun or chill of the dark. The snow felt like nothing. Not wet or cold, everything was just gone. Ian was alone in the entire world, a feelingless, gray world with no Mickey in it. No Yev. 

Ian was in hell. It had to be. 

Ian tried to take comfort where he could. He drove, yes…all by himself, to Mickey and Yev’s apartment. No key was needed. Everything was how he remembered it from the morning they left. Mickey’s laptop was on the coffee table with a cup of old, probably cold coffee. Yev’s bedroom was still a mess from when he couldn’t find his shoes. Mickey’s bed probably still smelt like them, only he couldn’t smell it. 

The sheets didn’t warm him as he laid in Mickey’s spot, snuggled in one of his hoodies. Nothing on tv, nothing on the radio. Just nothing. Why did this happen? Why was he gone? Mickey hasn’t finished his case yet so he should be there with him. 

Ian didn’t know how long that lasted. There was no indication of time aside from the rise and fall of the sun. He marked each time it happened, digging a slash mark into the headboard of the bed. But after 50 slashes, he’d stopped counting. 

And then one day, it happened. The dark lines started to blur. Cracks appeared everywhere he looked that let beautiful, colorful rays inside. It progressed each sun up and sun down until there was too much light, a big flash that blinded him…and when he opened his eyes, he was back. Standing by the front door of the Milkovich apartment and Yev was looking at him. Actually looking at him. 

Ian didn’t think it was real. It was too good to be real after suffering alone in that place. It wasn’t real until Yev slammed against his chest, shaking arms wrapping around his middle and the feel of wet tears on his shirt. 

“Shh,” he hugged him back just as hard and felt him cry harder and he had to choke back his own tears. “It’s okay Yevy, I gotcha.”

It was real. He was back. Ian didn’t know how or why or what this meant. Just that Yev was touching him, without Mickey around. The only thing he knew, was that something had gone horribly wrong. Yev was crying far too hard just for him, just because he was gone. 

Images of Mickey in another hospital bed, flashes; like knives into his mind. Reminding him that it was his fault, that he caused Mickey pain because he left when shit got hard. And now? Something had ripped him away from Mickey, taken him against his will but gone all the same. He had no idea the impact, the toll it would take on him, or if he would survive another heart attack.

Ian pulled back as the first of his tears started to fall. It only sped up as Yev looked at him, trying to smile through tears. He grabbed both sides of his face and cleared the path of tears with his thumbs. 

“Hey kid,” Ian laughed when blue eyes rolled back at him, “all those tears for me?”

Yev sniffed and nodded, never releasing his firm grip on Ian’s sides. “Fuckin missed you, asshole.”

Joke and laugh through the pain. His doctor called it a coping mechanism. Until more time had passed, and he had a better understanding of what happened, he would tag along with the lighter talk. But first, he needed to know about his Mickey.

“I don’t know how long I was gone, but uh…” he paused as Yev’s hand brushed a falling tear from his nose, “Yev, please tell me your dad is okay…”

“Okay isn’t the right word. He’s been a little out of it. Not sleeping or eating, hardly working. Uh, he…”

Shit. He knew that was coming but at least no hospital. No heart attack or risk of immediate death. It settled him enough, so he didn’t have one. His poor baby. 

“He what?” Ian prompted when Yev seemed to space the hell out.

“Uh, I found him down in the morgue, asleep.”

Now his heart really was broken. “Shit,” Ian saw Mickey sitting with his body in the morgue. Probably mad at him for leaving again. Cursing him out and probably wishing he never met him. “I didn’t mean to go Yev, something just came and took me.”

Yev nodded. “He knows that Ian. I did too. I know he was afraid of this happening the closer the case came to being closed. A warning would have helped though.”

Ian cringed at Yev’s attempted laugh. Something was wrong. He pushed the image of Mickey in a casket into the “don’t even go there” part of his mind and studied Yev. He looked different. Older? Definitely tired, bloodshot eyes. Wide and afraid. But why?

Then he noticed it. Surprised he didn’t right away. But you space the details of other shit when you had the image of your soul mate dead or dying in a hospital. There was blood on Yev’s face. Not a lot, only a few dried dots on his pale skin. 

Ian stepped back and Yev squirmed from the over attention. He was a mess. Hunched into himself, avoiding his eyes, spacing out and shaking. Blood on his face, some streaked across his shirt and the sleeves of his jacket, even the tips of his shoes. 

“Yev, what the hell happened?” Ian asked as he gripped both shaking shoulders.

Yev just shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about Ian.”

“The fuck I don’t! You’re covered in blood and losing your shit.” He squeezed harder when Yev shook his head. Yelling was not going to help right now. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Yev, you can tell me what happened. I won’t tell anyone.”

Yev blinked up at him. “You won’t? N-not even my dad and Nick?”

“I promise Yev but I’m freakin the fuck out there. Please tell me what’s happened.”

“You remember the research dad and I were doing, the shit to try and get you to stay here?” 

Ian nodded. That had happened the night before he disappeared, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask if anything was worth talking about. “Yeah, I remember.”

Yev wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “We found some shit. A bunch of it was bullshit but there was this story I found about something called Soul Swapping.”

Ian had no idea what that meant but it sounded quite literal. “I assume that means what it sounds like?”

Yev nodded. “It does. A woman lost her husband. They never found out who did it, but when the man was killed, it brought her husband back.”

Realization washed over him. The behavior, the blood, the story and the research. Yev’s reluctance to tell his dad or his boyfriend…him coming back. 

Ian cupped Yev’s face again as his own tears returned. He gave him a light shake, making Yev cry too. “Yevy,” his voice was shot, “please tell me you didn’t do that. Please, just fucking tell me you didn’t hurt anyone.”

When Yev didn’t reply, Ian had his answer. Yev just looked down, crying and shaking. It was too much. Too fucking much. Ian pulled him to lay against his chest and rested his head on the top of his.

“You needed to come back…” Yev whispered as he gripped Ian’s shirt, holding him close. “So, I brought you back.”

“Oh my God,” Ian shut his eyes and cried. Yev cried too, bawling against his chest, nearly loud enough to wake the neighbors. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Yev killed someone, maybe more than one someone to bring him back. 

“You can’t tell them Ian,” Yev managed to say through a hiccup. “Please, don’t tell them.”

Ian couldn’t respond. He was in total shock right now. Hugging Yev, a bloody Yev who just…saved him. He saved him by killing people. He wouldn’t let anyone do that for him. He wasn’t worth it. Murder…

“He needed you back Ian, it was killing him.” Yev tucked his face into Ian’s chest and cried harder.

“Shh,” he sniffled, blinking past the tears and the guilt. Ian didn’t think he was worth what Yev sacrificed for him, but his dad was. Mickey was so worth it. But Yev was just a kid. A sweet, innocent kid in love with his dads partner. He didn’t deserve the awful consequences of his actions. 

“I couldn’t let him die Ian,” Yev whispered, feeling the last of his energy wane. “I couldn’t let you go.”

“Please tell me…” Ian hugged him harder. If Yev needed to hold onto him as he said it, that was fine. But they both needed him to know.

So, Yev told him. Every single, mind numbing detail. About his plan, the hang ups—like them getting arrested, only to make bail. Yev told him about Mickey saying no to the soul swap, even if it meant bringing him back, Mickey couldn’t or wouldn’t do it. And with good reason. Mickey knew it was too awful to attempt. 

Ian’s stomach lurched when he mentioned Ned's/Lloyd's gun, about crying when he stood over them. It twisted even more as Yev described killing him first, then her, trying to make it seem like a murder-suicide. That Candice Lishman finally snapped, killed him, then herself. It was horrid. 

When Yev was done talking, he simply looked at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. Ian gave him a second, letting them both take a deep breath. “Yev, you know I can’t say what you did was the right thing, right?”

Yev nodded, that was about the extent of his ability to talk anymore. 

“But, considering I am able to say that it’s not right, that I’m actually here,” he leaned in and lightly kissed his forehead, “thank you for bringing me back.”

Yev cracked his first smile of the night. Or the week. “You’re welcome.”

“Did you make sure to be safe about it? No evidence that would lead them to you?”

“Nothing I can’t get rid of.” He looked down at his clothes. “I need to get rid of these before I go to Nick’s.”

Ian nodded, stepping away from all that panic to help Yev cover his tracks in every possible way. They would have to burn his clothes, somewhere a little more South Side then this. On this block, the neighbors actually gave a shit what people did at 2 in the morning. 

“Okay, we can do this.” He said very softly, more to himself then to Yev. Yev would believe him if he said they could handle it. But the moment he lost control, it would all tip over. “First, you need to get in the shower. Scrub the shit out of everything.” 

Yev nodded. “And the clothes?”

Ian froze for a moment before he dug under the kitchen sink and found a large black trash bag. “Go ahead, take em off.”

Yev hesitated. “Out here? Why can’t I go into the bathroom?”

“Because, blood is hard to get out of even the floor. Take it off in here so it doesn’t land on the floor or you don’t brush up against the walls.” 

Yev nodded and kicked off his shoes. Ian quickly put them in the bag before his heavy jacket, then his jeans and t-shirt, until Yev was standing in his boxers. Ian looked away but noticed a spot that bled through his jeans.

“Those gotta go too.” He pointed to it and Yev blushed. Ian set the bag down. “Go take em off in the bathroom, hand them to me outside the door when you’re done.”

They had to tiptoe past Mickey’s door and everything inside him demanded he stop. He wanted to see with his own eyes that he was alive. That he was okay. He wanted to wrap him up in his arms and never let him go. Ian wanted that smell all around him. That Mickey smell. 

But Yev needed him now. He waited outside the door and heard the shower kick on before Yev cracked it enough to slip his boxers out. Ian grabbed them and stuff them into the bag also. 

Now that he was alone, now that Yev wasn’t watching his every move, Ian let himself really freak out over this. Yev had killed two people for him. Plain and simple. Premeditated too. The kid planned it, had each detail down pat and delivered without incident. He didn’t know if he should be more worried because of that or less. Yev didn’t flinch, he didn’t balk. There was no scaring him because the scariest thing that could happen to Yev, was already happening. 

Was it okay to be grateful? Did that make him a sociopath? He was thrilled to be back, back with Mickey and Yev, maybe his family one day and the people who killed him were dead. It was justice. But why did it have to be Yev? That’s the only part that unsettled him, that and being happy about it. Which he should probably just keep that to himself. He didn’t need them to think he was okay with murder…but if it had been Mickey or Yev in his place, he’d he killed The Lishman's in a heart beat. 

Ian scrubbed down everything Yev may have touched. The blood printed door knob, a few drops on the floor in the kitchen. The room smelled like bleach, but it was better to be safe. It was when he walked to Mickey’s door, determined to see, just a peek, when he heard Yev crying. It was quiet, through the water and a closed door, like he was trying not to make a sound. Ian let go of the door knob, backing away from Mickey’s door and over to the bathroom.

Ian lightly tapped his knuckles on the door. “Yev?” He whispered, any louder and he’d be yelling. He got no answer in return, just more of that muffled crying. “Yev, can I come in?” He whispered again and waited but still didn’t get an answer. What was he supposed to do? Let him cry it out? Go wake up Mickey and blow Yev’s cover? Or was it okay to walk in, to see if he could talk to him? 

The door was unlocked as he turned it and slowly pushed inside. He felt a little odd, Yev was certainly not his son but Ian knew he couldn’t just walk away. It hurt too much to think about. He shut the door behind him and stood there. The crying seemed louder, it echoed into his ears over and over again. 

There was no use asking if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t. He might not be for awhile. “Is there anything I can do?” he tried instead; it was the only thing he could think of. If Yev was younger, a child, it would be easier to comfort him. Easier than a teenager who was nearly taller than him. 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying.” Yev mumbled through a face full of water.

Ian leaned against the counter, feeling a bit better about coming in. “You know why Yev, it’s okay to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“Sad, upset. Worried about what might happen.” Ian offered the suggestions he was feeling at the moment. Yev needed to open up about this now before it ate at him until he exploded. “Maybe you regret it?”

“No,” Yev answered instantly. “I don’t regret bringing you back to us. Maybe if they had a little remorse for what they did, I’d feel bad. But I don’t.”

Ian let out a deep breath. He didn’t want Yev to regret helping him. “How do you feel then?”

“I feel like everything is going to be okay. These past few days, they’ve seemed a little hopeless.”

Ian sighed. Yev wasn’t the only one who felt hopeless. Yev and Mickey had to live without him for a day or so, while he had to live without them for over 50. More if he kept counting the slashes. Yev and Mickey didn’t need to know how long he’d really been gone. It would add guilt to their plate, and they had enough shit to deal with. 

“It was like we had a time limit. As weird as that sounds. We weren’t sure how much time we had, and it’s been killing me. But you’re back and I just feel happy, tired.”

Ian smiled and finally heard him moving around in there. Probably getting to the actual cleaning part. “I’m happy you feel that way Yev, I didn’t want to be the only one.”

“You’re not Ian. You don’t know how happy he is going to be.”

Happy Mickey, that was something he missed more than anything else. That smile. Twinkling blue eyes. “You need me to stay?”

“Do you mind?” Yev asked, a little uncertain. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Ian grabbed the towel off the toilet and sat down with it in his lap. “I don’t mind at all Yev.” 

It didn’t take long at all. Maybe 5 minutes and he didn’t even have to talk. He just sat there, totally okay with being there just because Yev asked him to be. When the shower turned off, Ian moved to hand him the towel through the curtain and Yev stepped out.

“You have any clothes?” Ian asked and looked around. 

“In my room.” Yev headed for the door.

Ian waited behind. Making sure to wipe up the smear of blood on the side of the tub and poured a shit load of bleach against the walls of the shower before he sprayed them off. He did one last check before he turned off the light and walked to toss the rag into the bag as well.

A few minutes later, Yev came out dressed and handed him the stained towel to put with the rest. “I know you probably don’t want to stay here tonight.”

Yev shook his head. “No offense or anything Ian. I just kinda wanna be with Nick.”

Ian smiled and looked past him to Mickey’s door without meaning to. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Yev smiled. “You gonna wake him up?”

Ian shook his head. “He’s finally asleep. I’ll be there when he wakes up.”

Yev grabbed his shoes and his jacket, putting them on as he smiled. “I know you promised not to tell him, but he’s gonna ask and he already shot down my idea. What are you gonna tell him?” 

“I’m gonna tell him I don’t know. That I just appeared here.” Yev nodded. “But Yev, your dad is a smart bastard and he’s gonna get the call to their house. If he has any indication it is more than it appears to be, he’s gonna figure it out.”

“If he does, I’ll be the one to tell him all of it. It was my choice.” Yev stood, shoulders back.

“One step at a time kid. Just go to Nick’s,” he tossed the keys the keys he took from the station, yes, that other worldly station house, but he had a feeling that same car was parked outside. “Stay there and he will probably call you.”

Yev nodded and pocketed the keys. “Should I act surprised?”

Ian nodded. “Just play it cool until we have a reason not to, okay? Act like you’re seeing me for the first time. I know lying sucks, but this is some serious shit ans he doesn’t, he won’t be involved.”

“I don’t want him to be. Nick either. I kept him out of it the entire time.” 

Ian walked closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can do this kid; you had the balls to do something both your dad and I couldn’t do. Now we gotta protect you and if this is the only way, we are gonna lie our asses off.”

Yev nodded. “Thank you, for helping me. And for not freaking the fuck out.”

Ian pulled him in for a hug, which Yev hugged him back twice as hard. “Thank you Yev, you saved me.” He lightly kissed the side of his hair. “Now, go let Nick take care of you,” he moved back and nodded at the closed door, “so I can take care of him.” 

Yev nodded as he moved away. “Just take it easy, yeah? Give him a few days to recover.” He winked.

Ian snorted and lightly shoved him. “Get the hell outta here. Worry about your own sex life you freak.” He winked back and moved to open the door. “Call here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”

Yev nodded and backed out of the door. “Thanks Ian. And um…I love you.”

Fuck. His heart actually beat faster in his chest, one of those things that didn’t happen unless he was near Mickey. “Love you too Yev.” He watched him blush a little as he left. It wasn’t that kind of love, obviously, but it was a new kind of family love. One he was already used to.

*

(Olivia Benson's POV)

 

Olivia sat at her desk, staring at the empty one where Mickey was supposed to be. It had only been a few hours since Amara drove him home, but it seemed like ages. She didn’t know what was going on exactly, Mickey seemed to be in a mix between hopelessness and mourning. 

As the case revealed more, the harder it became for him. Especially over the last two days. He left her in charge of the interviews, let her do it without him. Something that he’d been clear about was being in the lead, with her as a back up. Somewhere along the line, Mickey gave that up. Gave her control of it. 

Mickey had given up. 

It was up to her to keep this case going. She had to win it for him. To get the justice that Mickey needed. 

“Hey, Liv?”

Olivia looked up from the Gallagher file to see Captain Fuller standing by her desk. “Yeah?”

“I got a call about 20 minutes ago about a shooting in Cook County, Winnetka Village, looks like a murder-suicide.”

Olivia sat back. “Cap, that’s North Side shit. We don’t have jurisdiction there.” 

Fuller nodded. “Yeah, I know. But I got the call personally because the address is the one we have listed in The Lishman file.”

Her eyes widened. She dug through her messy desk and pulled out the file. The Lishman’s did live in Winnetka, one of the wealthiest places in Chicago and less than 20 miles from Downtown. 

“Shit, is it confirmed?” She stood and opened the desk drawer for her gun. 

“They have CSU and Cook County at the scene now. They did say one older man and woman, so my guess is yes.”

“Fuck, Mick is not going to like that.” She stood and clipped her gun to her belt. “I’ll give him a heads up and drive up there.”

“Good. I’ll let them know to expect you.”

Fuller left with a sympathetic smile. Olivia took a moment, just standing there. A murder-suicide? She knew both of them were guilty, but it was leaning more towards the drunk wife, rather than the towards the doctor who had a taste for younger men. 

“Shit.” She grabbed her phone from the pile of papers and called Mickey. It was late and he was probably passed put but she has to try. She hung up when she got the voicemail, this was not the type of thing to leave as a message. 

The only thing she could do was head to the North Side and wait for him to call her back. 

*

(Ian’s POV)

Ian stood at Mickey’s door, close enough that his nose was pressed against it. It had been a solid 10 minutes since Yev left and he hesitated to go in when Mickey’s phone rang. He expected to hear his voice but didn’t. The phone stopped and he still hadn’t gone in yet. 

In all actuality, Ian was afraid. Afraid to see him after so much time, at least 50 of those days that was all he could think about. He was scared that when he touched him, all this would fade, and he’d be trapped in that shitty version of this world again. He wouldn’t make it that long again. 

Yev had said Mickey wasn’t angry at him for leaving. It wasn’t like he left willingly; someone took him away. Just decided that he had too much time and took the rest of it without care. But what if Mickey was mad? What if he didn’t want to see him? 

Fear after fear made him hesitate. Mickey was on the other end of that door and he was frozen in place. Until he heard it, Mickey’s voice. A soft, sleepy sound that was definitely his name. Ian was no longer frozen. That one word was enough to break him free and allow him to open the door. 

“Baby,” Ian whispered. 

Mickey slept like he always did, on his left side, facing the empty side with his hand palm up in the center. Just waiting for his hand to link them together again. He was still as beautiful as he had been when he left. He looked exhausted but no less beautiful. Soft, pale skin with all those freckles on his shoulder that he wanted to count and kiss each one. Dark hair, wild and spread out on the pillow like a fan. 

His baby was just beautiful. 

Ian kicked off his shoes as he walked closer, then quietly let his pants fall to the ground and shrugged off his shirt. Unlike before, he could feel the heat kick on above him. He could feel the change in the air. He was back, but not all the way. Of that he was sure.

Mickey’s heavy breathing lured him from those questions in his mind and brought him back. Ian pulled back the blankets and slowly slipped into his side of the bed without waking Mickey up. He wanted to, so fucking bad. To see his blue eyes and hear that adorable sleepy voice of his. He wanted kisses and smiles, skin. He wanted forever. 

The moment his head hit the pillow; Mickey moved to him. Still asleep but he knew. Ian bit his lip, so he didn’t let his sobs escape. He had been crying the moment Mickey moved and now that head of wild hair now rested against his chest. Ian let his head rest on top of his and wrapped his arms around Mickey, bringing him closer until one of Mickey’s thighs slipped between his own.

It was perfect. He didn’t need Mickey to be awake. Ian had everything he needed right here. He was content brushing his fingers through Mickey’s hair, planting kisses on his head every few minutes, feeling the beat of their heart hammering inside them both. He was linked with Mickey. If he was no longer around, Mickey would die and Ian knew if anything happened to Mickey, he wouldn’t be too far behind. 

Ian closed his eyes and started to hum. The tune didn’t matter. It probably wasn’t even real. He hummed as he rubbed Mickey’s back, threaded his fingers into his hair. Mickey held him back without knowing it. His nails digging sharply into his sides. It was his version of heaven. Just being here, actually here with his Mickey. 

“I love you Mickey,” Ian whispered and closed his eyes. It took him seconds to fall asleep and already he felt a million times better.

*

(Mickey’s POV)

Mickey felt groggy as he slapped at the phone blaring his rock ring tone beside his bed. He didn’t bother to open his eyes or to answer it. He didn’t want to wake up and find Amara sitting beside his bed again, studying the rise and fall of his chest like a damn creep. Why Yev had assigned his ‘home care' to Amara, he would never know.

All he knew is, he felt so much better then he had in the past two days. He felt like the old him again. His body was a little achy from sitting on the floor in the morgue and he was still tired, but he felt fantastic. Maybe all he needed was a little rest. 

The ringing stopped, thank fuck, and he turned back over, face smushed in the soft silk sheets…when did he get silk sheets? Strong arms wrapped around him, Ian’s arms. Strong and warm, capable of making him feel safe and loved, to make him feel like he was home. The beautiful sound of his heart beating under his ear, soft lips pressing into his temple. 

He was dreaming. It had to be. One of many day dreams he had over the past two days. So out of it that the only reason he didn’t freak out and give up was because he could imagine how good it would feel to be wrapped up in him again. That goofy laugh and emerald eyes, hair as bright as a damn road flare. Ian was his home. Home was where the heart.

When the phone rang again, Mickey pushed his head further into Ian’s chest, dream or not, he was going to enjoy it, and tried to ignore the ringing. It rang over and over and over. Never ending. 

“Mick, get your damn phone.” Ian grumbled and turned his head into Mickey’s hair.

Mickey huffed and moved off his chest, smiling like an idiot when Ian’s long ass arms circled his waist, trying to keep him close. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to shake this overly happy feeling. 

The second he reached for his phone, it hit him. His eyes went exponentially wide and that never ending stutter in his heart came rushing back, making pain spike through his body. The phone stopped ringing, leaving him shallowly breathing, hearing the roar of his pulse in his neck and trying to decide what was happening.

Was he really dreaming of this? Of them sleeping and getting woken up by his work phone? Ian couldn’t be back. Ian wasn’t back. This entire thing was a nightmare in disguise as his actual dreams. It was cruel and sick, and he wanted to throw up and punch the wall at the same time. 

Mickey sat up all the way and Ian’s arms fell with a dull thud to the bed. He turned slowly, like in a horror movie where the monster is right behind you. As soon as you see the monster, he eats your face. Only it wasn’t a monster. Far from it. Mickey still didn’t know if this was a dream or not, but he couldn’t give a shit.

Ian was in his bed, laying halfway on his back, those long legs bare and tangled in the sheets. Wild messy red hair fanned against the pillow, and he was steadily breathing. The rise and fall of his chest was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Ian,” he whispered, shocked at how soft and fragile his voice sounded. Ian became a beautiful, blurry figure in his bed. Tears slowly slid down his cheeks and he had no idea when he started crying.

That damn phone started to ring again, and Mickey ignored it and watched Ian wiggle around. Moving his head from side to side, scrunching up his nose in annoyance. Mickey reached out with a shaky hand and gently let it rest on Ian’s stomach and he stilled immediately under his hand. 

“Mickey baby, your phone.” Ian mumbled.

A chill went down his spine at the name and that was how he knew it was real. Mickey ignored the plea to stop the phone, jerked the sheet off Ian’s hips and straddled his body. Large hands moved to his hips on instinct and Mickey leaned down to put his ear against Ian’s heart. It beat slow and steady but strong. 

“Holy fuck,” Mickey cried and sat up, taking Ian’s face in both of his hands. “Ian,” he smoothed over his cheekbones. “Wake up, please wake up.”

Ian groaned as he stretched and blinked enough to see Mickey on top of him. Ian sat up, pulling Mickey firm against his body. “Hey baby.”

Mickey put their heads together, letting Ian’s hands move up his back, then his arms, brushing his hair back. It hurt so much, his chest hurt and his heart. It was literally too much to take. 

“Breathe for me baby,” Ian held his face and took a few deep breaths to demonstrate. He could feel the sting in Mickey’s heart, in their heart. It was overwhelming. 

Mickey took a deep breath, followed by a hiccup and more tears. “Please tell me this is real Ian.” He sniffled and ran his fingers through the long hair on top of Ian’s head and pulled him closer. “I need it to be real.”

Ian bumped their noses as he licked over his lips. “Let me show you.” 

Mickey nearly cried into that kiss. Ian’s lips were as soft as he remembered, sweeter from all that time they spent apart. The kiss was slow, just lips at first. Getting a feel for each other again and Mickey’s tears never stopped. Ian kept wiping them away in time for more to come. 

The kiss deepened because of him. Those soft kisses weren’t enough anymore. He needed to taste him and hear him. He needed it branded into his brain. Mickey’s tongue swept across Ian’s lip, inciting that deep groan he needed to hear. Ian’s tongue slid against his as he gripped both shoulders from the back, keeping him in place. 

The kiss slowed to a crawl, letting them breathe together. Mickey brought a hand up to his face, feeling the stubble poking into his hand. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Ian smiled and blinked back his own tears. “I missed you too baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

Mickey cut him off with a kiss to his trembling lips. “I know you didn’t leave on purpose.”

Ian sighed in relief and the first tear was able to fall. “I would never leave you Mickey. I love you so fucking much.”

Mickey let his hand move from Ian’s cheek to his heart, feeling it beat hard and fast. Something was different though. Ian no longer felt like he was fading. He wasn’t wasting away in front of him. Ian went from being black and white tv, to full on colored tv. All the reds and greens, the light brown of his freckles. All bursting with color, with life. 

“What happened to you?” Mickey whispered against his lips. Whatever it was, he could feel it. That connection they shared, was altered in some way. Stronger. Unbreakable. 

“It doesn’t matter baby,” Ian circled Mickey’s body with his arms until he could flip them over, settling between his legs. “I found my way back to you and that’s all that matters.”

Ian wasn’t being forthcoming about something. Mickey could see the beginnings of the lie. If he were to ask, to keep prying, the lie would surface. Maybe it was too painful to talk about. Maybe Ian was afraid they would jinx it and he would be taken again. 

“Mickey baby,” Ian put one of Mickey’s hands flat to the bed and linked their fingers, “just be here with me right now. I haven’t touched you in forever.”

Mickey nodded and wrapped his legs around Ian’s hips. One hand brought Ian’s face down against his while the other smoothed up one tattooed ribcage. “Touch me then Ian, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ian couldn’t help the desperate gasp he gave as he bent the rest of the way down to kiss him. He missed his touch so much, the feel of his pouty lips and rough hands. He missed the way blue eyes twinkled only for him. Ian missed everything.

They kissed like it would be their last one. No more taking advantage of that borrowed time, no more waiting. They loved each other more than anything else. Mickey pushed his feet into Ian’s ass, urging him to move, to rock against him as they kissed. His hands moved lower to grip and tug at Ian’s boxers, eager to get them skin to skin.

Ian groaned into his mouth as their tongues dipped and searched every inch of each other, his hands moved from fisting his hair, to sliding down his body before landing on his thighs. Silently reminding Mickey to keep his legs around him. Then he began to rock, slowly grinding between Mickey’s legs, groaning deeply as their dicks pressed together.

“Ian,” Mickey turned his head and whined. Ian just moved to his neck, sucking on that spot that made his legs shake. “Take these off.” He pulled at his boxers, trying to slip them below his ass.

Ian pulled back, kneeling on the heels of his feet and let his hands sweep from Mickey’s chest, down to his hips. “You sure you want to?” 

Mickey lifted his eyebrows high and Ian smiled.

“I know you want to but aren’t you tired?” Ian knew he couldn’t say Yev told him about not sleeping for two days. Means he had to skirt the details as he asked. 

Mickey nodded and pulled at the band of Ian’s boxers again. “M'sure, I need it Ian. I need you.” 

Ian gave it a second, searching his eyes and only finding the raw truth. He needed Mickey just as much. “Let’s get these off you.” Ian leaned down and kissed from Mickey’s chest to his hips. Biting hard nipples and scraping his teeth against the delicate skin of his side’s, dipping his tongue into his belly button and slowly pulled Mickey’s boxers down until they slid off to the side. And Mickey was fucking perfect. Gasping and groaning, fisting his hair and holding him close. Loving every minute of it. 

“Now you.” Mickey groaned, flushing hot under Ian’s observant gaze. When he went to push them down, Ian grabbed his hands and laid them flat on his chest. 

“Let me do it.” Ian wiggled back and deliberately slid them down slowly. “Touch yourself for me.”

Mickey groaned and let his hands move up and down his chest. He knew he was blushing but watching Ian get naked for him occupied the part of his brain that made him care about being embarrassed. He pinched one of his nipples, gasping a little. The other hand moved down, softly stroking the skin on his stomach, then his hips. Each time Ian groaned, he did it again. 

“You are so perfect Mickey.” Ian leaned down and kissed up one spread thigh. Sucking warm skin to nibble on it before soothing it with his tongue. “Fuck, I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

Mickey smirked, unable to keep it in. His hand tangled in Ian’s hair and led him to his other thigh where he repeated the same amazing treatment. “I love being yours.”

Ian kissed up to the juncture of his thigh and his groin and fuckin buried his face against hot, salty skin and groaned. His hands held Mickey’s legs apart, one arm looped under each of them. 

“Fuck Ian,” Mickey blushed hotter. Ian was making up for lost time and trying to drive him crazy. It was hard enough to focus with Ian so close to where he needed him, but it was impossible to sit still the second Ian’s tongue licked across his balls. “God, that feels good.”

Ian pushed up on one of Mickey’s thighs and he folded it closer to his chest as he licked his way down. He swirled his tongue around his balls, sucking on them before going lower. 

Mickey held one thigh up and Ian’s hair in the other hand, pushing him, trying to get him to go lower. “Gotta let me feel it Ian.”

Ian hips pushed against the bed at that first lick. It was so good. Too good. He spread him open and let those needy breaths and groans guide him until he was chin deep, growling against him, all while rutting against the bed.

“Just like that,” he shut his eyes and took one hand back to stroke his dick. His body was on fire again. Back to being under Ian’s control and he needed it. “You’re gonna make me come Ian.”

Ian glanced up, panting heavily against Mickey’s thigh. “You don’t want to?”

Mickey huffed out laugh and dug into his side table for the lube and tossed it at him. “Not like this. You’re tongue isn’t going to be enough this time.”

Ian slicked up two fingers and knelt between him again, he pushed one of Mickey’s legs over his shoulder and slipped them in one at a time until both slipped in easily.

“Fuck,” Mickey gasped and held onto Ian’s thighs. “Gimme another one Ian. Don’t want to wait.”

Ian nodded and slicked up another finger before slipping it inside, successfully stretching him open. “Fuck, I was gone too long. You are tight as hell.” 

Mickey breathed through his nose and pushed against the headboard, trying to grind down against them. “Get me open then,” he smirked when Ian’s eyebrows rose. 

Ian met that challenge by thrusting his fingers in until the knuckle and wiggled the tips against his prostate. Mickey’s smirk vanished and he let out a deep, totally satisfying groan. “Like that?” 

Mickey rose up and gripped Ian behind the neck, “yeah, just like that. Now get the fuck on me.”

Ian came to him willingly, pulling out his fingers enough smear them on his dick and push against him. He put his right hand against Mickey’s, fingers linked and pressed them to the bed above his head. The other one caressed one side of his smooth face. 

Mickey tucked his feet around Ian’s calves and let his free hand move down to press against his perky ass. “Come on, I need you.”

Ian connected their lips as he pressed inside. Mickey rocked with him, softly groaning into his mouth each time he slid in deeper. Each time Mickey tried to speed it up, he stopped moving until he settled back into that slow pace and his thighs were snug against him.

Mickey broke the kiss to let out a ragged groan. “God, I missed this.”

Ian smiled and kissed along his jaw and pushed forward. The tightness was nearly unbearable. Swallowing him and getting tighter with each thrust. Hotter. Wetter. He closed his eyes, feeling too many emotions come over him.

“You can’t leave again,” Mickey whispered out of nowhere. He opened his mouth to tell Ian to go deeper when that popped out instead. “You can’t.”

Ian moved to rest their foreheads together, keeping that same slow pace. “I promise baby, I’m right here.”

Mickey nodded and fisted his hair, keeping him close. “I won’t make it again Ian.” He cried and kissed him, shivering at the feel of his lips. 

Ian squeezed their linked hands hard. “I barely made it out,” he whispered against his lips. 

Mickey tried to tell him how hard it was, being without him. Even as Ian was thrusting slowly into him, not fucking him or sex but making love. Slow and soft and meaningful. Something they hadn’t had the chance to do before. It wasn’t the time to talk about all the bad shit. 

Mickey gave a deep groan as Ian pushed in deep, then scowled when his phone rang yet again. “Goddamn it, can’t even fucking get dick without being at work.”

Ian chuckled and reached over to grab the phone. He kept it in his hand and flipped them back over, so Mickey was seated on his lap. “You can have dick any time you want it.”

Mickey groaned, the position was so much deeper this way and held onto Ian’s broad shoulders and started to ride. Each time he sped up, Ian slowed him back down with a tight grip on his hips.

“Slow baby, nice and slow. We have all the time in the world.” Ian groaned and squeezed his ass. The phone quieted for a moment, leaving them blissed out. 

Mickey watched his eyes as he slowed and they fluttered closed, darkening with each thrust. “Like that?” he asked, just to provoke the reply he needed to hear again. 

Ian bit his lip and nodded. “Just like that. Fuck baby, you move so damn good for me.”

Mickey trembled, leaning forward until they were face to face. “Say it Ian,” he put both hands on Ian’s chest and sped up just a little. “Just say it once, please.”

Ian slapped his ass hard, making it echo. “You want me to call you my good boy, Mick?” 

Mickey nodded, feeling his orgasm trying to take over. It was so close. As much as he didn’t want it to end, he had to hear it again and it would tip him over that edge. He needed to hear it. “I’m close.” He panted against his mouth. “You?”

Ian nodded and slapped his ass again, groaning as he clenched around him. “Just a little more baby. Work yourself for me.”

“Say it,” Mickey begged as he stroked himself fast. It had his eyes rolling back in his head as he rocked back and forth. “Fuck, I feel it Ian. Please, just say it.”

“Oh God…” he gasped and dug his nails into Mickey’s ass. “Be a good boy and come for me.” He growled and watched Mickey fall apart. 

“Fuck…fuck!” Mickey came hard, busting on his hand and up the center of Ian’s chest. His mind fogged as he slumped into his hard chest. Ian gripped his thighs and pushed into him over and over. “Fill me up Ian, make me yours again.”

“Holy shit!” Ian stilled as he came, letting his head fall back against the wall. His hips slowed, helping him ride it out, panting hard and absorbing the warmth of Mickey’s body. “Oh baby, you are so fucking good to me.”

His eyes fluttered closed and leaned against him. He hissed as his phone, still in Ian’s fist, started to vibrate against his ass. “Son of a bitch.” He snatched it and saw Olivia’s name flashing. “Shit, she called like 6 times.”

Ian nodded; eyes cast down. His hands moved up and down Mickey’s pale thighs. “Work?”

Mickey shrugged and answered the phone on the 4th ring. “Milkovich.” He winced at his rough voice and knew Olivia noticed when she chuckled. 

“Damn Mick, no wonder you didn’t answer.”

He grinned and winked at Ian. “This important, I’m kinda busy?”

She sighed. “Yeah, sorry. If this wasn’t important, I would have called. We have a murder-suicide in Cook County, I’m on the scene now.”

Ian winced, unable to look up.

Mickey noticed but didn’t ask, not yet. “That’s not our stomping ground Liv. Get the hell outta there.”

“Trust me, you need to be here for this Mick. The scene is at the Lishman house. Lloyd Lishman and his wife, Candice are dead.”

Mickey looked down at Ian. His eyes wide and scared. He knew something with Ian was off. That something had changed inside him, and this was why. This was why Ian was back. The Soul Swap. 

“Baby?” Ian questioned, rubbing over his face.

“Ooh, he sounds all pretty too Mick.” Olivia teased.

Now they both had wide eyes. Looking at each other with confusion and fear, with love and all that relief. She heard Ian talk. She fuckin heard him.

“Holy shit…” he put his hand on Ian’s heart, feeling it beat fast. “Liv, I gotta go.”

“Wait, what? Mick, we have a problem here. These were your suspects.”

Mickey looked as Ian mimicked him, covering his heart with his palm. “I don’t care Liv…” he smiled, even with the fear and uncertainty, Ian was alive. “I gotta go.”

“Mick!”

“I’ll be there soon.” He mumbled as he pulled the phone back and ended the call. 

Too much was happening. He didn’t know where to start. Or how to make sense of this. He could give a shit about the Lishman’s, not with Ian alive under him. Not feeling his heart beat under hid palm. 

“You’re alive.” He whispered and leaned down to kiss him. “She can hear you; you’re fucking alive.”

Ian smiled and pulled him closer. “I told you nothing could keep me away from you baby,” he rubbed over his heart, “and I meant it.”


	21. To Have and To Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey has his suspicions about the Lishman crime scene

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 21- To Have and To Hold

Mickey waited by the front door, no longer sweaty and blissed out with Ian on top of him but dressed in dark jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a heavy jacket on. Ian sat on the end of the couch, positively pissed the fuck off at him. 

“Ian…” Mickey tried for the last time before he had to leave but Ian wasn’t hearing it.

“Don’t 'Ian' me, Mick. You know this is bullshit.”

“Yes, it’s total bullshit but what the hell am I supposed to do?” He shot back and felt his eyebrows take over all emotion on his face. 

“You can stop being stubborn and let me come with you.”

“You know I can’t.” Mickey pocketed his keys and stepped in between Ian’s split thighs. “I can’t show up to a crime scene with the murder victim alive and in the back seat of my car.”

Ian frowned. “You’d make me sit in the back?”

Mickey chuckled and brushed his hands through Ian’s hair and scraped against his scalp. “You’re missing the point here Ian. You know I’d let you take the front.”

Ian huffed but rested his head against Mickey’s chest, burying his face to breathe deep. “I just got back Mick. I don’t want to stay here while you leave.”

“I don’t want that either.” He kissed the top of his head. “But shit is different now. Liv heard you over the phone. That probably means people can see you too. We can’t explain that.”

“I can’t hide here forever.”

“I never said that.” He stepped back and ran his own hands through his hair in mild frustration. “You wanna come? Then come. But when Olivia sees our victim—who is very much alive for all intents and purposes, you need to figure out what we are going to say about that.”

Ian didn’t reply. He crossed his arms and wouldn’t meet Mickey’s eyes. The grown up version of a full on pout. 

This is not what he wanted right now. He didn’t want to fight with Ian. Not now, not ever. But shit was different for them. A million times more dangerous then they had been before. All of Chicago knew about the murder of Ian Gallagher. It was a fuckin headline still, even weeks later. There was no way Ian could just shadow him at the crime scene like he did before.

Mickey tried to see it from Ian’s point of view instead of his. He had no idea how hard all this shit must be for him. Being dead, away from your family, potentially fading from existence. And who the hell knows where Ian had gone for those two days. They hadn’t had a moment to catch their breath and figure it out. They’d been too busy convincing themselves that he was back, for good. Showing each other the love they had for one another. Wrapped up in the only thing that made them feel safe; each other. 

The awful thing was, was that they still didn’t have the time to talk. Two people were dead. Something fishy was going on with it and he had that gut sinking feeling he knew what it was. There was only one other person who knew about the possibility of a soul swap. The one person who was willing to go that extreme distance to bring Ian back.

“I just…” Ian took a deep breath, trying to hold all those broken pieces together, “I just don’t want to be without you.”

“Fuck.” Mickey whispered and stepped back up to him. He cupped Ian’s face and brushed back the tears that tried to fall. “Get your jacket.”

Ian looked up with wide eyes. “Why? I thought you said…”

“I did say that,” he whispered and gave Ian’s pouty lips a soft kiss, “but I don’t want to be without you either.”

Ian pulled him down and Mickey didn’t put up a fight. Not even a little bit. They moved in sync with each other, turning at the same time to lock their lips in a tight, consuming kiss. Mickey stepped forward without realizing it and Ian’s leg locked around his leg and held him there.

The kiss was as desperate as it was hopeless. They finally had each other, and they were blissfully helpless to stop it. The details that tried to hold them back didn’t matter anymore. The world gave them a second chance. One they wouldn’t ignore even if they wanted to. 

Mickey pulled back when he felt wetness against his face, only Ian’s eyes weren’t wet. The tears were his. Steadily running down his cheeks and he’d been too wrapped up to notice it. Ian was there to brush them away, giving him that knowingly sweet smile. 

“You know it’s gonna be okay, right?” Ian asked when their heads bumped together. 

Mickey did not know that. Nothing that had happened from the second he left Peach's Diner that morning had been okay. His life was a puzzle, it had been completely chopped into pieces and a four year old was still trying to put it back together. Rearranging pieces, tearing off the corners, peeling the designs off and straight up losing a few pieces. 

“How do you know?” Mickey asked softly, looking into dark green eyes and that ever present spark between them was lush and powerful.

“I know because we are going to make it okay, baby. No one else, not Olivia or Fuller, not the Lishman’s or my fucked up family, not even Yev; can decide what we are. What we will be. That is up to us.”

Ian’s words tore through half that anxiousness and fear. It gave him the hope he needed, the love he craved. “Us.” He tested the word out, liking it so much better than being alone.

“Yes, us. You and me baby, for always.” Ian smiled softly. “We make the choices that are best for us. Not anyone else.”

“You are what’s best for me.” Mickey blurted, not caring if his face was as red as Ian’s hair. Ian had to know that whatever happened, however he was able to come back, was worth it. 

Ian smiled as he slid his hand under Mickey’s shirt to rest above his beating heart. “You are what’s best for me Mick. At least we agree there.”

Mickey chuckled, even as his phone rang. He didn’t answer it. It would only be one person right now and he didn’t know what to say to her. “You’re what’s best for me too Ian.” He repeated to himself as he studied the lines around Ian’s mouth and he smiled at his words. 

“Good, now we know where we stand.” Ian rubbed over his chest, digging his nails in a little until Mickey gasped. “Now get the hell outta here, go be a cop.”

Mickey grinned. “That’s detective.” He leaned down to kiss him, not at all surprised when Ian took a moment to deepen it. “You gonna be here when I get back?”

“Considering I can’t just take a walk in the city I grew up in, yes. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Mickey stopped at the door again. “Just try and relax. Shower, sleep, eat. All that shit you didn’t need to do before; you can do it now.”

Ian nodded. “Be careful baby. I love you.”

Mickey grinned. “Love you too Gallagher.” He winked and shut the door. 

The air around them was still strange. Not in a bad way but it was unsettling. He didn’t like to be in the dark. He didn’t want to get blindsided by the consequences. Having Ian back awakened something in him that he hadn't felt before. It made him realize that all that time before he met Ian, growing up under an abusive father, hustlin his way through Chicago, trying to stay alive. A victim of rape, and the child that came after. Breaking free of that stereotypical no good, South Side trash; to give him and Yev a better life, all of it wasn’t living, it was surviving. For 34 years, he fought to survive. But for what? What was the light at the end of the tunnel? What did his future hold? 

Ian had awakened the part inside him that craved happiness and love. That demanded he get life a little easier, if only for a while. A taste of happiness. Hope. Ian had made him hope for more and that scared him. It freaked his shit right out. Hope and happiness could be taken away so easily, he didn’t want to go back to how he lived before.

A future, their future; with him and Ian and Yev, was all he could think about as he drove to the North Side. The front of the Lishman house looked way different then before. The quiet neighborhood turned into something from his side of Chicago. All streets were blocked with cop cars, blue and red lights flashing; providing enough light to illuminate half the block. A crowd around each available space, stuck together like gum so they could get a glimpse at something awful enough to remind them how blessed they are. 

Mags' van was parked in the front, waiting for the OK to take the bodies. Crime scene techs covered every inch of the lawn, trickling from the house. Olivia stood on the porch, looking as agitated as he’d ever seen her. The whole thing was a cluster fuck. 

And he couldn’t give a single fuck. Ian was back. Alive. Maybe that was selfish, a sin obviously, maybe his one-way ticket to hell. But they say justice was swift and absolute for a reason. Karma was real, or maybe it was fate. He wouldn’t question it any more than he had to. 

Mickey stomped out his cigarette and blew the smoke high into the icy sky. The night was peaceful. No snow falling, or icy rain. No wind. Yes, it was pitch black outside, but the sun would rise in under an hour and Mickey knew it would be the most beautiful one he would ever see. Phenomenal, epic, legendary; pick a word and it would suffice. The day itself would be 10 times as amazing as it normally was, simply because Ian was back. 

The walk up to the house seemed to take forever. He flashed his badge out of habit to anyone with a uniform until he safely ducked under the yellow tape. As a habit, as well as part of his job, he scanned the area of clues. The door wasn’t kicked or busted down, no foot prints in the damp grass or muddy ones on the walkway. No windows ‘accidentally' left open, no strange cars parked out front. Every bit of what he saw, lined up with the original idea. Murder-suicide. 

“Mick.”

He glanced up and Olivia was waving him over. He stepped lightly, just in case there was any evidence laying around and made his way towards her. Normally that sense of dread washed over him about now, just before getting the awful details. That didn’t happen this time. He felt no guilt that they were dead and that’s what bothered him. 

“You’re late.” Olivia grinned at him.

Mickey shifted uncomfortably, averting his eyes. “Yeah, so?”

Olivia smirked, unable to help herself. “You’re never late.”

“What, I can’t be late now?” he was blushing the longer she kept bringing it up. 

“He sounded very sexy Mick. Boyfriend?”

Mickey stopped before he said no outright. Ian was so much more than his boyfriend. Ian was his everything. “I don’t think I’d call him my boyfriend…he’s more like…” he didn’t get to finish.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Of course he isn’t your boyfriend. Too gay? Just a friend then?”

Mickey knew she was just fuckin around. Even with the eye rolling, he could hear the playful tone. “You wanna let me finish?” she nodded and opened her hands to insist he kept going. “Boyfriend is so high school Liv, he’s my soul mate.”

She gaped at him. Eyes wide, mouth falling open in shock. It was priceless. Not many things could render her speechless like that. When he said soul mate, there was no hesitation. Maybe that’s what surprised her.

“Wow Mickey, that’s uh—” she smiled and shook her head.

“What? Gay?”

She nodded. “Very gay, but kinda amazing.” She moved to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

Mickey let out a breath of relief, happy she wasn’t going to push the issue now. It wasn’t like he could talk to her, or even say his name. It would only get harder the longer he had to keep it quiet.

“So, enough about my love life,” he grinned when she fanned her face, “you wanna tell me what the hell happened here?”

“I have no idea Mick. Court went as planned, they were both keeping quiet, not flipping on each other. Bail granted, a million each, which they paid in cash, and they walked out.” 

“Nothing to suggest that this shit would happen?” 

“Nothing that I could see. The wife was bitchy as usual, probably because she was sober. The husband was just quiet.”

“We okay to go inside?” He nodded towards the open door.

Olivia handed him a hair of gloves and plastic booties to slip over his shoes. “CSU has been all over this house. No evidence of anything aside from up in the bedroom.”

The house was dark, quiet. Clean. Rich people. Every single thing was in order. In it’s rightful place. Like no one had been inside. Maybe no one had.

“Any signs of a break in?” Mickey fingered the locks on the door, none had been jimmied. 

“Mick, they said murder-suicide. Why would we check the locks?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Just humor me Liv. We work this like we do any other scene. Even though we shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“True, but they were suspects. It’s too much of a coincidence.” 

“Sex Crimes Liv, not homicide.” He grumbled.

He didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t his job. If they decided to kill each other, it didn’t concern him. Or them. He was almost afraid of what he might find if he actually tried.

“So, locks?” he lifted his brows and walked around the bottom floor.

“No, no one broke in here. All windows and locks were in place. Cops had to break the door down and turn off the alarm just to respond to the shots fired call.”

On the counter in the kitchen was a half empty bottle of cheap vodka. He poked at it, a little surprised that it was so cheap. The kind of shit he used to steal just to be able to sleep under the same roof as his dad. The Lishman's could afford the good stuff. A glass set next to it, a little liquid on the bottom and a pinkish lip print on the rim.

“Wife didn’t stay sober for long.” He shook his head and moved towards the stairs. “They recover the gun?”

Olivia nodded and followed him. “Lloyd has a list of fire arms in his name. All here and accounted for.”

The room was quiet. As it should be for two dead people, but it was unnerving. He kept by the door and took it all in. The room was also in perfect working order. Only a few things were wrong. 

Lloyd Lishman was on his back in bed, covers pulled up to chest, eyes closed and a medium sized bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. Blood splattered back against the headboard and the white pillow, blood pooling under his body. Or it had been. 

The other side of the bed was empty, the covers thrown back like she got out of bed quickly, the sheet had been peeled off one corner. Mickey saw a cell phone laying on the ground, halfway hidden under the bed. 

Mickey waited until the room cleared before he stepped up to the bed. Olivia moved past him to look at the wife who was laying on the floor by the window. He bent down, careful not to draw too much attention to himself and bent to look at the phone. 

The screen was dark, cracked at the corner. He slowly slid it towards him and clicked the button on the side to illuminate the screen. It had the dial pad pulled up and 911 on the screen. If this was a murder-suicide, why the hell would Candice Lishman need to call 911?

“Who called 911?” Mickey asked and blocked her view of the cell phone when she looked at him.

“Neighbor. Heard the shots, they never hear shots here and dispatch was here within 5 minutes.”

So, no one on this house made the call. The 911 on the cell phone hadn’t connected. It didn’t make sense. This was the first clue that made him question the situation. That bad feeling he had came back stronger. Mickey thought about how wrong it was for about half a second before he acted. He deleted the 911 from the call log and set the phone on the side table. 

“Got something?”

Mickey turned to look at her, giving nothing away. “Her phone is here. Techs might want to check it. See if she had any contact with Gallagher.”

“Oh, I didn’t even see it there.” She moved to the hall and pointed it out to the CSU tech. 

It was the right thing to do. Even if he didn’t know what or why it was. Mickey moved to the other body. Candice Lishman was on the floor by the window, dressed in one of those silky nightgowns. Her hair was impeccable, aside from the blood that coated the right side of her head. The bullet went through the left temple and out the other side. 

“So, she wakes up in the middle of the night,” he crouched down closer to her body as he spoke, “scrambles out of bed.” He glanced over to see a small gun safe open on the ground. “Gets the gun from the lock box, one clear pop to Lishman’s face, walks back to the window and shoots herself?”

Olivia nodded and stepped over to the lock box. “Single lock box, enough room for one weapon. 45, same as their wounds. She obviously knows how to use it.”

Did she? Candice didn’t seem the type to be able to shoot someone in the center of their forehead. Especially if she had been drinking as indicated down stairs. Also, the gun was still in the palm of her left hand. That shit only happened in the movies, and when someone planted it. 

“Anything talking to you?”

Mickey stood up and nodded. “She smells like a damn brewery. Guess that’s normal for her.” He chewed his lip, wondering if he should tell her what all he found. “Looks like she opened the gun case, shot him, then herself.”

“This lock requires a thumb print Mick. Not hers.” Olivia pointed to the round lock.

“Maybe she used his print when he was asleep?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“Without waking him?” she shook her head and stood up. “I doubt that.”

Shit. Shit. This was not good. Something was wrong. Really wrong. The hell this was a damn murder-suicide. Too many details were piling up to knock that theory out and just like he did with the phone, he chose to hide it. With no idea why.

“Liv, it looks like she got drunk and killed her husband, then herself. She used his print to unlock the gun and popped him.” He crossed his arms.

“But why? Why now?”

“They were about to be convicted of murder. She had enough, couldn’t get to him in lock up. So when they make bail, she wastes no time and kills him.”

Just tell her. He needed to tell her all he found. What his thoughts were. But what did he think? What did it look like? To him, it looked staged. Candice had clearly climbed out of bed in a hurry, then reached for her phone to call 911. There was a commotion that made her drop it under the bed. It would be easy to subdue a small drunk woman as he--whoever it was, could get the gun, shoot Lishman, then turn to her. He also remembered that Candice was right handed. The bullet went into the left side; it didn’t match up. 

“So, we just chalk it up to bad luck? The wife just snapped?”

Mickey nodded. “It happens. Cheating, lying husband. Has a younger boyfriend, threatens to take her husband away. The life style—the money. She would be humiliated if it didn’t happen already.” He shrugged, it sounded like a good story.

“So, we are under the assumption that they did kill Ian Gallagher?” 

Mickey flinched as subtly as he could and nodded. “I know we didn’t put all the pieces together about that case. We don’t know how or when they drugged him, who actually killed him. The son probably helped cover it up.” 

“There are missing gaps. But we have to go through their entire life now, their house. Offices. They can’t stop us and maybe the son can fill in the blanks.”

Mickey nodded. “We can have Mags sort through the medical details and evidence to back us up, unless she finds something else. But this isn’t our case. We just need access to the house and his office at the hospital.”

“Sounds good. Now we can focus on connecting all the dots.”

Mickey waited for Olivia to walk out of the room before he took a closer look at the window. She was about 3 feet away from it. If someone was in here and scared her awake, why would she run to the top story window? Mickey looked outside and got his answer. There was a trellis leading from the window sill to the ground. It had vines and dead roses slithering between the cracks, but it would be easy for her to climb down and out to the road. It also made it easy for someone to crawl in quietly without messing around inside the house. 

“Shit.” He looked down and saw a small drop of blood off to one side of the window sill. Like the blood from the shots had dripped off someone’s hand as they went to leave. 

“Hey Mick?”

He jumped, feeling his heart in his throat. “Yeah?”

“Gonna scout the property, just in case. You comin?”

Mickey quickly opened the widow and swiped away the drop of blood with his sleeve before he locked it back. “Yeah, I’m comin.”

Olivia was halfway out the door before he caught up. He ran ahead of her, towards the side of the house where the trellis was, she gave him a confused look but let him lead. He kept a few steps ahead of her, just in case more shit came up.

“What are we lookin for?” Mickey asked and stopped, the window one story above his head. 

“I guess nothing. Not if we are going with the wacked out wife. Just habit.” Olivia looked around close to the street. Looking for anything that may tell them something else.

Mickey turned and looked up to the window. He followed the path down, seeing vines smashed and pushed aside for someone to grab the wood underneath. “The Fuck…” he groaned when he saw a footprint to the right of the trellis. Embedded into it from the moist ground.

“What?”

She was moving fast, coming closer and he had to do something. Mickey stepped onto the print, smashing it with his boot, destroying more evidence that someone had faked this entire thing. 

“Nothing, just muddy over here.” He lifted his foot to show her his muddy boot, thankful that his footprint was now printed there instead of the other one.

“Probably from the sleet last night. Mucked this entire place up.” She lifted her shoe to show that hers were also dirty. “Let’s go tell Mags she can move the bodies. Fuller is gonna want a report.”

“We goin in now?” Mickey asked as they walked back to the front and he was able to light a cigarette. 

“Might as well. We are both up with fresh eyes and will have some new evidence soon. Why? Not a good time?”

“Got Yev home, had to dart out but I’m sure he’ll be up when I get back.”

Straight up lie. Yev wasn’t at home. He didn’t even know if he came back home. He wasn’t there when Ian woke him up. He needed to call and figure out why he wasn’t home, find a way to tell him about Ian, even if he already had his suspicious about Yev already knowing.

The thought made him sick to his stomach. There was no way Yev had done this. Even if someone did kill them and cover it up, it was not Yev. The kid was soft and sweet and didn’t have it in him. Maybe that’s why he destroyed evidence. Because there was someone who wanted them dead as much as he did. Because if there was even a 1% chance that it might be Yev, there was no way he would do anything to put his son in jail. 

“Go ahead. I’ll give Fuller a heads up about you comin back but don’t count on much besides desk duty.”

Mickey scuffed and tossed his used gloved and shoe booties into the trash. “That’s all there is now Liv. Just paperwork. Mountains of paperwork.”

“Maybe grab some food before you come in? We are gonna be there all day and after…” she paused, not wanting to rehash it all again. “Well, just keep your energy up and meet me after.”

Mickey nodded and tried not to be too irritated. She only mentioned it because she cared. And food never hurt, maybe he could take Ian out somewhere to eat. The thought made him smile. It would kinda be like a first date, right? Breakfast. Just them. 

“Yeah, I just might do that.” He smiled and waved as she got into her car and left. On the way to his, he pulled his phone out and dialed Yev’s number. Even though there was no way this was him, he just needed to know he had an alibi, just in case. 

Mickey cursed when a deep sleepy voice answered, and it wasn’t Yev.

“Hello?”

Mickey didn’t answer right away. Just knowing that it was 6 in the morning and Yev had to be in bed next to that bastard, made him want to scream.

“Hello?” he asked again.

Mickey took a deep breath, on his semi best behavior. “I need to talk to Yev.”

“Yeah, hold on.”

Mickey cringed when Amara groaned, that sleepy sound when you roll over. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t rolling over to talk to his son. In the same house, in the same bed, within arms reach…fuck. This was not a good start. It only made it worse when he could hear Amara talking again.

“Baby wake up. Phone.”

Mickey smoked the rest of his cigarette in record time and lit another. Softer, awfully sweet words that grated against his brain and more grunting later and the phone was being passed between them. 

“Dad? You okay?”

Yev sounded worried. Why? “Yeah. I’m fine. Thought I’d see ya when I got up?”

“Sorry dad. I came to see Nick and fell asleep.” 

Okay, barf. Mickey felt it bubbling in his gut. He took deep breaths and tried to stay calm. “You been there the whole night?”

“Uh, yeah. You sure everything is okay?” Yev asked again after hesitating. 

“No, not really. I don’t know what’s goin on or if you’re involved, but I just walked through the Lishman crime scene. Both of them are dead.”

The line was silent for a moment. A moment too long, long enough to get those awful thoughts into his mind again.

“Holy Shit! What happened?”

“Officially, murder-suicide. Wife offed the husband and killed herself.”

“Does that mean….uh, hold on.”

Shit. Yev was trying to get away from Amara long enough to ask about Ian. If Yev did do this, if he killed them both, he wouldn’t be so surprised. Right? Fuck. This was all messed up. Upside down and backwards. 

“Did it work?” Yev whispered into the phone. “Is he back?”

Mickey smiled despite all the unanswered questions. “Yeah Yevy, it worked. Ian is back.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Yev chuckled. “I gotta see him.”

“No, not yet. I’m headed back to the house to see him and I was gonna take him for food before I gotta deal with all this shit.”

“Like a date?” Yev chuckled. 

“Fuck, I don’t know. When’s the last time I even dated someone before?”

“True, you just bend over and get it over with.”

Mickey was shocked. Like mouth wide open shocked. “Yev, the fuck?” Yev only laughed. “Little prick, I could say the same shit to you.”

“Liking what I like doesn’t make me a bitch dad.”

Fuck, this kid was definitely his. “Yeah, got that shit right. Do you think he would think it’s a date?” God, he felt stupid. Asking his teenage son for dating advice like he was 14 again. 

“Knowing Ian, and yes I do know him, then yes. He would think it’s a date or he would want it to be. He’s a damn romantic.”

If you looked up the definition of ‘romantic’ it would say Ian Gallagher. Even with all that sexy, sweaty and downright sinful sex they had, Ian always found some way to make it romantic. A simple kiss to his head or muttering ‘I love you' for no reason, half the time he didn’t recall saying it. 

“Shit. Maybe I should just pick it up and bring it to him.”

“Nope, don’t do that. He’s been invisible for weeks dad. He needs to get out and have breakfast with his boyfriend. Like, where people can see him with you.”

“Since when did you become Yoda for dating?” Mickey questioned as he got into his car and worked his way back towards the South Side. 

“Since forever. Just do it, yeah? Don’t make shit weird, just act like you normally do and it’ll be fine. But I’m coming over later. I gotta see him.”

“Fine, later. Gonna get him a phone so that’ll help. I can’t exactly let him tag along with me anymore. He’s not too happy about it.”

“Well yeah, it was hell on us but who knows the shit he went through. Probably nothing good and now you have to be more careful and he won’t be with you all day. Gonna take some adjusting.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out.” He paused as he merged into the flow of traffic. “You sure you were there all night?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You wanna ask Nick? He’ll tell you.”

Mickey gagged into the phone, nearly swerving out of his lane. “Don’t ask, don’t fucking tell. Jesus. I’ll talk to you later.”

Yev was still laughing when he hung up on him. Gross. He did not need to hear it from Amara. Like ever. If he said he was there all night, with Amara as his alibi, there was no way he offed the Lishman’s. 

All those clues, the phone and the stray drop of blood, the footprint that could have come from anyone at any time was all coincidence. Candice could have done it all. She probably did. Maybe. There was a good chance. He needed it to be her.

*

By the time he pulled up to the apartment, the sun was peaking into the sky, washing away all the blues and grays. And just like he thought, it was even more beautiful knowing Ian was alive for it. Mickey unlocked the door and was met with silence. 

He kicked off his shoes and jacket and slowly made his way back to his room. “Fuck.” He muttered and leaned against the doorway. 

Ian was once again in his bed. Laying face down in his pillow, wearing a pair of black boxer briefs; his and one of his Chicago Blackhawks Jerseys. His legs were tangled in the sheets and his ass conformed to those briefs in that overly unnatural way. The jersey rode high up his back, showing off two prominent dimples just above his ass.

Ian Gallagher was a sexy mother fucker. 

This is not what he expected to find. Ian asleep, yes. Not Ian asleep like that. It was unfair. He had work. He wanted to take Ian for breakfast. But there was no way he would be able to turn away from this. Not for anything. 

Mickey slowly pulled the sheet the rest of the way off and positively salivated over his legs. Long and lean and muscled. Goddamn. He crawled between his legs and ran his hands from Ian’s ankles, up to his thighs. 

Ian shifted in his sleep, making Mickey groan when his ass clenched as he stretched. Normally his ass was at the top of the list for sex, being a bottom and all that, but Mickey loved a good ass. Nice and tight and perky like Ian’s. 

“You awake?” Mickey whispered as he leaned down and kissed the slice of skin between the shirt and the briefs. 

Ian looked sleepily looked over his shoulder, blinking quickly to get up to speed on what was happening. “Baby?”

Mickey grinned up at him and kept kissing around the same area. “You okay?”

Ian nodded. “Whatcha doin?”

“Just admiring your ass,” he chuckled when Ian blushed. “It should be against the damn law to look like you do right now.”

“Wearing boxers and a t-shirt?” Ian chuckled too; it was a little ridiculous. 

Mickey moved his hands up to Ian’s ass, spanning his fingers wide as he squeezed. Ian groaned and dropped his head to the pillow. “I love you in my clothes. These are just a little too tight to fit you, but they really make your ass pop.”

“Normally it would be me admiring your ass.” Ian moved to look back. “But this feels pretty damn good.”

Mickey squeezed harder and the tips of his fingers tucked into the top of the briefs and tugged them down. “It does feel pretty damn good.”

“How long can you stay?” Ian tried to turn on his back, but Mickey kept him on his stomach. 

“Not long. Gotta get back to work.” He pulled them down until the perky tops of Ian’s ass was showing. “Wanted to see you before I had to go. Take you to breakfast.”

“Like out out?” Ian groaned as Mickey’s lips kissed over him. “You sure that’s okay?”

Mickey kissed over his ass, pulling them further down until they rested below his cheeks. “Fuck Ian.” He nipped one cheek. “I don’t think food is going to happen.”

Ian pushed forward into the bed, grinding against it. “No? Then what are we gonna do?”

Mickey really had no fucking idea. This was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to pick him up and leave to eat. Now he had Ian’s ass in his face and never wanted to move. He leaned back on his feet and squeezed his ass again.

“We should go, like really.” Mickey pulled his briefs back up and kissed up his spine instead. Pushing the shirt up as he went higher, which put his groin firmly against Ian’s ass. “Fuck, we gotta go.”

Ian moved when Mickey’s mouth grazed his ear. His hands moved back, holding him closer and pushing his ass back without meaning to. “I don’t wanna go. I like this.”

“Yeah?” Mickey asked and gave and involuntary swing of his hips. Ian gasped and he felt it all the way down his spine. “I love when you have me like this.”

“I love it too baby,” he gripped his hair, so Mickey’s mouth was against his ear. “You want me to fuck you before we go?”

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes and pushed against his ass again, “we don’t have time. But I fuckin want it.”

“Maybe we just keep it like this? You movin on me.”

Dry humping was so high school. It’s what you did when you were too afraid to go all the way to sex. Only, they could go all the way. They just didn’t have time. It felt fucking fantastic because it was with Ian and he was egging him on. Pushing back against him like he really wanted it. 

“That gonna work for you?” 

Ian nodded quickly. “Knowin you’re gettin off on me, literally, is sexy as fuck and you got me grindin into the bed.” 

Mickey looked down to see that Ian was grinding down against the bed. It was so fucking sexy. All of it, even with their clothes on, the gun clip digging into his hip. He wanted it. 

“Gotta be quick about it,” Mickey moaned into his ear as he started to move again. Pressing his dick right into the firmness of Ian’s ass. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

Ian nodded, smashed under the weight of Mickey’s body. He turned his head to the side as he panted and pushed against the bed. “I wish I could fuck you right now. I'd do it just like this.”

“Yeah?” he moaned and reached down to push Ian’s shirt up, feeling warm skin under his hands. One was tangled in Ian’s hair, the other on his left side, holding him down. “Gonna give it to me nice and deep?”

“So fucking deep baby,” Ian moved faster, fucking into the sheets with wild abandon. “I know my good boy likes it deep.”

Mickey’s hips stuttered, throwing off his rhythm. His entire body went on the fritz. Sending a burning hot flash of heat down his back. “God Ian…” he closed his eyes and tried to keep going. It was getting more difficult with each grind into his ass.

“You gonna come for me Mick, hmm? Grindin against my ass like you want to be balls deep.” He moved his hand back to grip Mickey’s thigh. “You wanna switch it up, you wanna fuck me?”

Mickey shook his head. “Fuck no. I want your dick in my ass, turning me out.”

Ian let out a deep moan. “I feel it baby, I want you to come. I wanna come in that tight little ass of yours.”

“Oh God, shit—” Mickey groaned against his ear. “I’m right there Ian, fuck, I need you to say it.”

Ian was literally holding on by a thread. He knew the moment he said what Mickey wanted, they would both come. “You want me to say it?”

“Yes…yes, please. I don’t think I can come unless you say it.” He moved harder, faster, trying to tip himself over that edge but he just couldn’t get there without it. “Make me come Ian. You have to say it.”

“Fuck, fuck, gonna come baby, I’m gonna fucking come.” Ian held on tight, hearing each whimper. “Be a good boy and come for me Mick.”

“Holy fuck!” Mickey closed his eyes as he came. Rutting against his ass like a dog in heat. Feeling that overwhelming pleasure rush through him. 

“Mick!” Ian held on, pushing once more against the sheets as he came. Waves and waves of desire shot through him and it really felt like they had just fucked. 

“Oh my god.” Mikey groaned and rolled off him to the empty side of the bed. Come splattered the front of his boxers, sweat dripped down his back and it really would have been easier and faster to actually fuck. 

Ian broke out in a fit of giggles, turning onto his back as well. “I guess I need to wear this shit all the time if it makes you do that.” 

Mickey blushed, making his face even more red. “You can be wearing a burlap sack and still provoke that reaction. God damn.”

Ian moved over until his head rested on Mickey’s arm and pulled him into a deep, breathless kiss. They groaned as their tongues twisted together and Mickey rolled them, so he was on his back. 

“I feel so fucking good right now.” Mickey whispered and linked his hand with Ian’s. Their noses lightly brushed together, and Ian’s smile matched his own. 

“Me too baby,” Ian closed his eyes. “I need more sleep now.”

“What about breakfast?” that made Ian crack one green eye open. “Hmm? You wanna have breakfast with me?”

“Are you serious about us going out?” Ian asked and brushed a piece of hair from Mickey’s eyes. “Is it safe?”

It really wasn’t. Ian’s face had been on every magazine. The news even. The entire South Side knew of the Gallagher clan. It was risky. But what was the point of having something like love, if you didn’t enjoy it. If you didn’t risk everything for it? 

“I think I have a place we can go.” Mickey felt his heart flutter when Ian smiled at him like that. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you smile like that.”

Ian blushed. “Only you make me smile like that Mick.” 

Mickey stroked the side of his cheek, moving up and down scruffy skin. Ian’s eyes closed and he nuzzled into his hand. “I love you.” He whispered and his eyes opened again. “I don’t think I’d make it without you.”

Ian could feel that small dash of pain in his heart. It was mixed with so much love and relief, but it was there. Ian knew because he felt the same fear, the same pain. “We made it baby, we made it.”

Mickey nodded, unwilling to let the thoughts about ‘what if' they hadn’t made it, cloud his mind and ruin the blissful mood. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some food.”

*

Half an hour later, they sat in his usual booth in Peach’s diner. The same seat where he got the call that changed his life. Ian sat beside him looking radiant. Eyes as green as he’d ever seen them, the sun had set in his hair, making it obnoxious and enchanting. Ian wasn’t pale anymore either. Like a light had been flipped under his skin. He looked alive and happy. It was so hard for Mickey to take his eyes off him, to not reach out and beg for kisses every other second. 

Ian welcomed it too. Mickey leaned over and kissed along Ian’s jaw while he ate. Each bite, each kiss had Ian smiling around his fork. Leaning closer. “I don’t think this will ever stop.”

Ian chuckled and set his fork down. The entire table top was covered in empty plates and bowls. His appetite was back with a vengeance. “What? Me eating the entire diner or you trying to eat my face?”

Mickey pulled away as he scuffed, only for Ian to scoot closer. “So damn touchy Gallagher.” He teased and wrapped his arm around Ian’s body again.

“You know I love all that touchy feely shit Mick.” Ian grabbed for his 4th cup of coffee and washed down his pancakes. “It just feels weird, not having to break apart.”

Even he had to get used to that. When your entire relationship had been forced to be private, it was an adjustment to be able to sit together and talk above a whisper. To link hands under the table or share those totally clichéd kisses. 

Mickey put his mouth to Ian’s ear. “I fucking love it.” Ian gasped when he sucked on his ear love, softly biting it before he returned to kissing his jaw. 

“I love it too.” Ian spoke quietly as he slipped his hand under the table. He grasped Mickey’s hand and led it to his groin. “I never want you to stop touching me.”

Mickey rubbed him hard, kissing down his neck until he was surrounded by Ian’s smell. “Fuck, you’re hard for me.”

“Well well…looks like I got two horny teenagers in my diner.”

Mickey smiled up at Lucy but didn’t jerk away. He was done with all that. Lucy didn’t know about Ian, or it would have showed on her face the second they walked in. There was no reason to break apart. “Miss Lucy, good to see you.”

“And who is your sweet friend here?”

Mickey smiled when Ian blushed. “This is Ian, my boyfriend.” Ian glanced over with wide, happy eyes. “Ian, this is Lucy. She owns Peach's and is my coffee dealer.”

Ian smiled up at her. “Nice to meet you ma’am.”

Lucy chuckled. “Manners too, I’m impressed. You two need anything?”

Mickey looked to Ian, who shook his head no. “Just the check and I need a coffee to go please.”

“Comin right up detective. Just please, don’t make a mess in here. At least take it to the bathroom.” 

Ian chuckled and glanced to see Mickey grinning, totally unbothered by her suggestion. “I’ll keep that in mind,” his hand squeezed Mickey’s thigh, “thank you Lucy.”

“Any time cherry.”

As soon as Lucy left, Mickey was trying to get Ian to scoot out of the booth. The fucker just laughed and used his taller frame to his advantage and didn’t budge and inch. “You don’t want to?”

Ian moved his hand to squeeze Mickey through his jeans. “I really fucking want to, just like I did at home but you gotta work.”

Ian said ‘home' like it was nothing. And damn if that didn’t make his heart flutter like a love sick fool. “Shit, I don’t wanna go.” 

“That makes two of us.”

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Ian. I always want you with me.” Mickey kissed his cheek, trying to convey how much he wanted him all the time. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Mick, I’m sad.” He looked away from Mickey’s kicked puppy expression. “I don’t want to turn into that bitchy boyfriend, but you do work a lot.”

Shit. He knew sooner or later this would come up. The entire time Ian was a ghost, a spirit, the talk of an actual future was never dissected like this. But now all they had was the future. He didn’t feel bad about working so much when Ian was with him, but it wouldn’t he like that anymore.

“I’m not askin you to change or anything like that Mick, it’s just something to think about.”

What did he do? How the fuck did he handle this? Never in his life did he want someone to ask him to quit his job. Until now. He wanted Ian to ask him to leave. To make him choose between being with him or his job. He would choose Ian in a heart beat. 

“So, I’ll quit.” He said as he be brushed Ian’s hair from his eyes. “Then I’ll have normal hours with a safer job.”

Ian looked at him with wide eyes. “Mick, you can’t do that. You have this job for a reason. You love it and you’re fucking good at it.”

Mickey smiled. “I can be good at anything I try. It’s just a job.”

“No, you can’t do that.” Ian shook his head and pushed the plate away. 

“Do what?”

“You can’t just uproot everything because of me. I know you didn’t ask for this, that we never actually thought I’d come back like this, and you can’t just stop living.”

Ian was freaking out. Eyes watery, hands animated as he spoke. He really was worried that he disrupted his life. Mickey took Ian’s face in both of his hands and grabbed his full attention for what he was about to say.

“Ian, I didn’t start living until I found you.” Mickey brushed under Ian’s eyes, wiping the tears that had yet to fall. “I was just here, alone. I worked because aside from Yev, I had nothing to come home to. Work was all I had until you.”

The first tears fell silently, and Ian leaned their heads together and covered Mickey’s hands with his own. “Mick…”

Mickey kissed him before he could finish. He took a few moment’s to swirl their tongues together before he pulled back. “I was so fucking lost without you. I couldn’t think or eat, I couldn’t sleep. I felt like I was dying.”

Ian put his hand on Mickey’s chest as that sharp pain coursed through his heart. 

“I wanted to die.” Mickey whispered as he closed his eyes. Ian gave a watery hiccup and held him tighter. “I never want to feel like that again. I never want to be without you again and nothing you say will change my mind.”

“It hurt so fucking much to be away from you baby,” Ian lifted Mickey’s hand off his cheek long enough to kiss his palm. “I don’t know how long it was here, but it felt like forever.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. “It was two days, nearly three.” Ian’s eyes looked away from his and he could see the beginnings of that lie he felt earlier. “Ian,” he still wouldn’t meet his eyes, “how long were you gone?”

Ian shook his head. “I-it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how long it was, or how short. Any amount of time away hurts.”

No. He wasn’t going to let this go. He couldn’t. Not with the helplessness he saw in Ian’s eyes as he mentioned not knowing how much time had passed. He knew it was more than two days.

“Ian,” Mickey wouldn’t let him look away, but he wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Baby?” Ian looked up at the rarely used name. Mickey only said that once, when he woke up to Ian fading away in his bed and he hadn’t heard him use it. “How long were you gone?” 

Ian sniffled to clear the emotions but more seemed to fall in Mickey's hands. “Time was different there… longer. Two days here felt like forever.”

“Fuck.” Mickey pulled him in against his chest and Ian willingly wrapped his arms tight around him. “You can tell me Ian. You don’t have to feel alone anymore.”

But Ian didn’t want to tell him or Yev. He didn’t want that guilt on their hands. It was hard enough for him to live it, harder to tell them how awful it was. “I don’t feel alone anymore Mick. Not with you.”

Mickey kissed the top of his head, breathing in deeply. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Ian shook his head. “None of that matters now. We matter. Yev matters.” He squeezed tighter. “I just don’t want you giving anything up for me.”

“I would give it all up for you Ian.” He pulled back and kissed Ian’s flushed cheeks. "I want to spend every last minute, every second of each year that passes, with you. I want all the days and the nights, sleeping and eating and touching. I want the good times and the hard ones. I want to fight and love and live.”

Ian lost sight of him through all the tears. Leaving him with a blurry face and eccentric eyebrows. “And what about the other thing?” Ian asked softly, unable to voice it just yet. 

"The other thing?” Mickey asked, eyebrows drawn in trying to figure it out. 

“Like you said, I’m alive…kind of. And when I was alive before, I was bipolar.” Ian looked away. “I am bipolar. What if it comes back?”

Mickey felt his heart sink. He hadn’t thought about that possibility. All of this blindsided the both of them and when Ian’s doctor talked about the side effects of the disease, it hadn’t worried him. But it was possible that it would impact their life now and Ian was just as afraid, if not more so, than he was.

“I won’t lie Ian, I’m scared.” He took a deep breath, trying not to fuck it up. “I’ve never had to deal with something like that before. I can’t promise it won’t be hard, or that I know what I’m doing. I can’t even promise it won’t freak me out a little…” Ian looked away again and he kissed his lips until he looked back. “The only thing I can promise, the one thing I’m sure of, is that I will always love you. No matter what. And I promise I will never leave you.”

Ian let out a shuttering breath, even to him it sounded halfway broken, desperate. “Promise?” his voice shook as well, coming out rough and watery.

“I fucking promise Ian,” he grabbed Ian’s hand and put it against his heart. “Whatever time we have left, I want to spend it loving you.”

That was it. The last piece before the floodgates opened. Ian fell against his chest, burying his face into his shirt. Mickey held him close, rubbed up and down his back, kissed his head and just held Ian while he felt it all. He knew it was a lot. Intense as all hell and the one thing Ian needed from someone, complete love and acceptance for who he was. Why it was so hard for people to give that to him, Mickey had no idea. Ian was the embodiment of all things good and sweet and innocent. Ian was a fighter, a warrior and deserved so much happiness. 

“I love you so much Mickey.” Ian mumbled against his chest, eyes slipping closed. 

“I love you Ian.” He opened his eyes to see half the diner looking at them. Watery eyes, mouths hanging open. In shock and awe. The man he was before he met Ian, would been angry that they had just witnessed his raw, soul barring love confession to another man, but he wasn’t kidding when he said Ian made him better. Lucy looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time. He could only smile as he held on. 

Eventually, they would look away and go back to their business, or they could look forever, and he would be okay with that too. He had never been so okay with everything in his entire life, as he was right now. 

** 

(Yev’s POV)

“Who’s going to ask me Yevy?” Nick sat on the edge of the bed, watching his boyfriend get dressed in a hurry.

Yev slipped Nick’s hoodie over his head before he looked at him. “I’m not saying anyone is going to ask you. But if they do…”

“You want me to say you were here?” 

Yev shook his head. “No, I can’t even be here legally Nick. I told my dad I was here all night. If he asks you…”

Nick nodded. “If he asks, fat chance, I’ll tell him you were here.”

Yev nodded as he walked closer. “I know it doesn’t make sense and I’m sorry you have to do this.” 

Nick shook his head and pulled him closer to stand between his legs. “I don’t have to do anything cariño, I do it because I love you and I trust you.”

Yev bent down to kiss his full lips and wasn’t surprised when Nick pulled him into his lap and deepened it. Ever since Ian was taken, he kissed Nick like it might be their last kiss. Just in case it was. Their life, their future wasn’t guaranteed. It could be taken in a heart beat.

“And if anyone besides your dad asks?” Nick asked when he pulled back and brushed Yev’s hair back.

“If anyone asks me, I was home the whole night. He’ll back me, just like you would.” Yev smiled, amazed that both Nick and his dad were in his life. Now he had Ian too. 

“You must promise to be careful my love,” Nick stood and kissed the back of Yev’s hands. “Promise me.”

Yev rose up on his toes and linked his arms around Nick’s neck. He was already use to their height difference. Nick was too and bent down to scoop him up like he knew he would. “I promise Nicky.”

“Good, because if anything were to happen to you…” he trailed off and shook his head.

“Nothing is going to happen. I’m just being precautious. Tomorrow, this will all seem like a bad dream and we can go back to it being us. Easy, amazing. No more distractions or late nights for me.”

Nick had been so strong through this entire thing. Supportive even when he was kept in the dark. When he was pushed aside. Nick held him together last night. He couldn’t tell him what he’d done, and Nick hadn't asked but the moment Nick woke up, all sleepy and concerned, Yev had lost it. He'd broken down, cried his heart out over what he’d done. Nick couldn’t help him deal with it because he didn’t know, but Nick held him together while he tried to figure it out for himself. He didn’t know how he was lucky enough to deserve this man. 

“You’ll come back to me?” Nick asked hopefully as he caressed Yev’s face. “I’ve missed you so much cariño.” 

Yev leaned into his hand. “I’ve missed you too Nicky.” 

It felt like hello and goodbye at the same. He was about to go see Ian and the only thing he wanted more, as to tell Nick about it all. But it was safer for now until they figured it all out. Until Ian’s case was closed. Then, maybe he could tell Nick what he’d done and how it would change him. To warn him that he might not be the same person he had been. 

Maybe after that, Nick would help him come to grips with it. Or maybe there was no way Nick could be with a killer. It was possible that saving Ian might cost him Nick.


	22. Linked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as things start to unwind; just as the case is about to end, a few new complications arise with Ian and Yev

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again! thanks for reading!
> 
> this chapter has a lot of diff POV's in order to capture all sides

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 22-Linked

(Lip’s POV)

Lip stared right into his coffee cup, watching the steam as it rose to touch the tips of his fingers as they circled the rim. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there since Mickey’s surprise phone call. It had been days since the spoke at the station, he’d been busy trying to solve his brothers murder and now it was over. 

The Lishman's were dead. 

That would be a Gallagher’s bad luck coming out to play. They finally, after nearly a month, catch the people that took his brother and they were dead. How was that fair, they hadn’t suffered like Ian had? They got three meals a day, clean clothes, a shower and a bed to sleep on while in jail waiting for their hearing. What did Ian get? Drugged, taken from his family, shot, tossed away like trash. 

Their deaths should have made him feel victorious. Justice had been served. Why didn’t he feel better? Maybe because justice or not, Ian was gone. Now he had to figure out what to do next. Where to go. How to act. Did he get on with his life? School? Amanda, if she was even taking to him still. Was he supposed to forget? 

Fiona slumped sleepily down the stairs, her shirt barely covering her upper body and in the same shorts she’d been wearing for two days. Her normally soft brown hair was a rats nest, unkempt and she didn’t seem to care at all. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles underneath. Make up smeared and she smelled a little ripe.

Needless to say, Fiona was not handling this well. Debbie had been handling Liam for the most part. Taking him to school and making sure he ate and showered, slept enough. Fiona seemed to think she was alone. Not only emotionally but physically. She looked over them, not registering them in the slightest. She left when she felt like it, came home when she wanted. Her job was in jeopardy. It was bad.

Lip looked away as she moved past him and tucked the opened envelope that he’d been looking at, under his arm so she wouldn’t ask. Not that she did any more. That would imply she cared. He didn’t want her to see, even if she didn’t actually see it.

“Morning.” Lip tried, like he'd done for the last three days.

Fiona barely nodded at him. A slight tip of her head and she was pouring the rest of the coffee in her cup. Lip looked away before he saw her dump the whiskey inside instead of the creamer. It was her choice; it always was, and he had bigger things to worry about.

“Mickey called.” Lip tried again as she walked past him. She didn’t even hesitate. Just kept moving until she scaled the steps and was gone again. “Nice talk Fi. Yeah, I’m good thanks for asking.” He shook his head and blocked her from his mind. 

The paper in hand had been burning a hole through his mind for the past week. From MIT. Worried about next semesters funds. Funds that he had, up until he came home. It might seem okay for Fiona to slack on her job, the bills got paid anyway right? Wrong. It had come from that account and he needed the money, or he would have to drop next semester and get way off track. There was no way he had the money to go back. 

It hurt. He worked his ass off to get the hell out of Chicago and now he was back where he started. Only missing one brother and had a catatonic sister. Frank in his early days. Drinking, bad hygiene, child neglect, blowing off jobs. She had a better excuse, but life didn’t just stop like that. It didn’t wait for you to come to terms with it, heal and pick up where you left off. Either you were strong and dealt with it like he did, or you gave up, little by little; like Fiona had. 

Lip pushed the paper away, scattering the stack of unpaid bills further down the table. He sat there with his head in his hands, trying not to freak out. Only one person at a time was allowed or everything around them would crack. Even the loud ringing of his phone didn’t startle him. He dug around in his pocket and pulled it out, answering it without looking. 

“What?” He grumbled.

“Phillip Gallagher?”

“Yup, that’s me.” He drank half the chilled cup of coffee as he waited. 

“This is Jack Brooks, the manager for Ian Gallagher's apartment.

At Ian’s name, he sat up straighter and felt that dreadful feeling wash over him. “Yes, hi. Sorry. Is everything okay?”

“Not really Mister Gallagher. Your brother hasn’t paid his rent this month and he was half short from last month. I keep trying his cell phone number, but it says it’s out of service.” 

Were they really that stupid? Ignorant? The land lord had been there the day he beat the shit out of Raines. Lip was certain the cops, Mickey at least, told him that Ian was gone. And now this asshole manager is calling about rent money? 

Lip bit his lip, so he didn’t scream at this guy. “How much does he owe you?”

“Uh, full rent is $1,200 but like I said, he owes me half of lasts months too so total would be $1,700.”

How the hell did Ian even afford to live there? $1,200 for a studio? One giant room? “Uh, I don’t know if anyone told you this, but Ian died earlier his month.”

“Shit, sorry. No one said anything. Uh, I assume you want to pack up his apartment? Otherwise it’ll get reused or tossed.”

“No, don’t toss it.” Lip squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Is there anyway I can pay what he owes and keep the apartment?”

“Are you planning on moving in?”

“No, I just need a little more time to get shit straightened out before I deal with his apartment and shit.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. As long as it gets paid, we really don’t care who lives there. But if you are planning on moving in, you would need to have it all in your name.”

He didn’t want to live there. To be reminded constantly that Ian was gone. Sharing his space felt fuckin weird but he couldn’t find it in him to let his place go yet. If he paid it, as expensive as it was, it would give him a month to decide on what to do. It would give him time to be able do dig though Ian’s life like that or box it up if he couldn’t stomach going through it all. 

“I assume you don’t want a check?” 

“Not for this amount. I at least need the back payment in cash to put a leash on things with the landlord. They don’t like open apartments here for very long.”

“So $500 in cash?” Lip asked, unbothered by it. He already spent most of his savings, what was 500 more?

“Today, if you have a chance. I’ll be there from 2-4.”

“Thanks. I’ll be there.”

He ended the call and stood to head to the bank. He didn’t want to walk around with that much cash on hand. People in the South Side could smell money from miles away. One sniff in his direction and he’d catch an ass beating and his shit would be taken. He could handle himself like any other kid from the South Side, but he wasn’t in the mood to try. 

Carl came down the stairs, eyebrows drawn close together. “What’s up?”

“Douche bag manager callin about Ian’s apartment. Gonna swing by there and handle it.”

Carl nodded. “Hear anything about Ian’s case from Yev's dad?”

“Mickey?” he asked, and Carl nodded. “Yeah, he called early this morning. Apparently, his suspects are dead. Drunk wife snapped and killed both of them.”

“Son of a bitch!” Carl yelled and started pacing. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Aside from him, Carl was the closest to Ian. Fiona was more like a mom; he’d been away at school for years. But Carl had been there when they couldn’t be. “I’m not really sure Carl. Mickey was sure they’d be charged but now…” he sighed at that destroyed look on Carl’s face. “Just gimme a bit and I’ll see if I can get update.” 

“Maybe Yev will know. I can call and ask.”

“Good idea. I’m sure Mickey told him first. Look, I gotta go to the bank and shit, then to Ian’s. You guys okay here?”

Carl nodded. “Bout to take Liam to class. Debbie got a job, since Fiona decided she can’t be bothered to give a shit anymore.”

His voice was full of so much hate and disappointment. It was true, Fiona was not handling this well. But what they sometimes failed to realize, was that she was like a mom to them all. Fiona lost her little brother, and she kinda lost a son. That didn’t excuse her behavior, but it opened his eyes up enough to pick up the slack. 

“Well, it’ll help, her having a job. I got the rest covered if you can help me with Liam.” Lip slid a cigarette from his pack and offered Carl one. 

“Yeah man, I got you. Just let me know about all this shit, okay? I’m not gonna be kept in the dark or I’ll find out on my own.”

Lip smiled as Carl headed for the stairs to get Liam. “Sure thing Carl.” He shook his head but before he could make it out the door and Carl up the stairs, his phone rang again. Carl came back down to sit on the step, looking expectantly at him.

“It’s Mickey.” He mumbled out loud so Carl wouldn’t have to ask. Two calls in one day, that wasn’t good. He answered it with his cigarette balanced between his lips. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Hey, I wanted to call you before someone else does.”

Lip frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not really good or bad actually. Uh, Mags, the M.E. here just gave me authorization to release Ian’s body.”

Lip could hear the tremble in the detectives voice when he said, ‘Ian’s body’, like he never wanted to say those words that close together ever again. “What does that mean?”

“It means the case is closing Lip. We can’t charge two dead people with this, or we can but it won't help much, but Jimmy is filling in all the blanks for us.”

“So they did do it then?” Lip looked at Carl, his eyes wide and a little teary. “It was them?”

“Yeah, it was them. Once we get all the details from Jimmy, I’ll let you know. As for Ian, Mags is supposed to call you soon and ask which funeral home you want him taken to.”

His throat tightened along with his chest, making each beat of his heart feel like it was in high definition. Funeral home. Ian would be taken there…that meant it was over. He would have to plan his brothers funeral. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice a little raw.

“Yeah,” Mickey sighed heavily. “We can get together if you want, talk about it all. Maybe Fiona too?”

“Uh, she’s not really…” he trailed off, not wanting to speak too badly of her. “She won’t be there but yes, taking about it might help. If you don’t mind.”

“It’s no problem at all. We should probably talk anyways; I may have some new shit to tell you by then.”

“When?” Lip crossed his arms, trying to hold it all together since Carl was watching. He may be almost 17 but he was still just a kid. “I gotta handle some stuff in a bit.”

“Maybe like 6 or so? You can swing by here?”

Lip nodded. “Yeah, I’d rather not do it here until I know more.”

“I understand. I’ll see you later man. We’ll figure it all out, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks Mick.” He ended the call, grateful that Mickey was still trying to help him, them. Aside from being Yev’s dad, he had no connection to them and yet he was doing more to help now then anyone else in their entire life had. 

“Well?” Carl asked around a mouthful of smoke.

Lip looked at him with a blank expression. Tears were just behind his eyes, threatening to fall at the first sign of weakness. For the moment, it would be easier to not feel. Not until he had a chance to process that fuck load of information he just received before noon. 

“They’re releasing Ian’s body.”

Carl shifted on the step, looking down. “So, it’s over then?”

“Yeah Carl, it’s over.” He whispered and turned towards the door.

As Mickey said, you can’t charge the dead with murder. 

**

(Mickey’s POV)

Mickey felt sick as he ended the phone call with Lip. It had taken nearly half an hour just to muster up the balls to call and tell Lip that everything they had, all they worked for was gone. Ian would never get the full justice that be deserved unless the Lishman’s were alive to endure it. He could hear the emotion in the younger mans voice, probably only holding it together by a thread. 

It had been even harder to tell him that Mags was releasing Ian’s body. They only did that when the case was over; either solved or put on a shelf until more evidence surfaced. This meant it was over, the end. No justice for Ian Gallagher…not that the public or his family would know of.

It was the lying part that he hated the most. He had the ability to make the Gallagher’s happy again. To make them whole. He could bring Ian to their door and show them he was alive still. It would be the sweetest relief until the questions came. He could watch them hug and smile and laugh, he could watch them be happy again… but it wouldn’t last very long. Of that he was sure. 

Ian would never go back to the life he had been taken from. Even if he did have a good excuse for Ian being alive, he wasn’t the same guy anymore. As death should, it changed him. Being a ghost changed him, fading and finding love and family when you thought all was lost and hopeless. Ian was stronger now, after all he suffered, then he was in those last few weeks when he was alive. 

The Gallagher’s were different too. As much as they would like to go back, it was impossible. They would be happy for a short amount of time before the guilt ate at them. They would feel responsible for Ian’s death, hate themselves because they could have and should have done more to help him. It would cause tension, then it would cause them to drift. To break apart. All would be miserable, especially Ian.

Ian’s happiness was something he would never gamble with.

So, where did they leave him? It left him to sort through all the pieces that were left over. The evidence from the Lishman house was being processed, which would take some time. Time he needed because he was about to talk to Jimmy Lishman for the first time since before Ian left. 

“You want me to wait?” Olivia asked as she stepped up beside him with two coffees in her hand.

Mickey took the coffee with a grateful nod, no way it was better than the coffee he shared with Ian at Peach's this morning, but coffee was coffee. “I think we should both go. Get at him from both angles.”

She blinked at him, surprised. “Sounds like a plan. You thinkin good cop/bad cop?”

Mickey nodded. “Only this time, I play the good cop.” 

“You sure? You never play the good cop.”

That was true. Even with Amara at his back, he always played bad cop. He was intimidating, resting bitch face, knuckle tats and that scowl he perfected over the years. Amara was 6’4 and people were still willing to open up to him before Mickey. 

“Never, but if you come at him hard, he’s gonna use the connection we have to get me on his side. It might make it go faster, easier then pulling teeth.”

“You think he’s more involved then we thought? I mean, all the evidence is pointing to the mom and dad.”

“Jimmy doesn’t have the balls to do any more than assist. He gave his dad up before we even turned on the heat.” He took a drink and let it warm the icy part of his heart. “Let’s just go with what we know for sure and some of the shit we think we know about the scene this morning.” 

“Good, let’s do this.” Olivia smiled and reached to open the door when Mickey’s phone rang.

Mickey glanced at the name and grinned. Olivia was looking at him with her own smile and he didn’t even care enough to try and stop. “Gimme a sec, yeah?”

“That your soul mate Mick?”

His heart pounded with that totally in love feeling and he nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a second.”

Olivia squeezed his shoulder and opened the door. He turned off the speaker on the side of the wall and answered. “Hey you.”

Ian chuckled. “Hey baby, you okay?”

Mickey’s blood boiled under his skin. “Yeah, getting ready to be in the middle of it. You good?”

“Yeah, goin stir crazy here though. So far, I’ve taken a shower, cooked too much food, cleaned every inch of this apartment and its only been 2 hours since we had breakfast.”

Mickey groaned. Such simple shit shouldn’t sound like porn to his ears. “Damn Gallagher,” he whispered the last name, “this domestic shit is makin me hard.”

“Oh, is it now?” Ian teased, “good to know doin some dishes and cooking is the key to your heart.”

Mickey leaned back against the wall, letting the coolness press into his back. “Damn right it does, but I think it got diverted from my heart to other places.” 

“You're a naughty boy baby.” Ian chuckled darkly and heard Mickey gasp.

“You can’t do this right now. I gotta go.” Mickey whined when Olivia tapped against the glass. 

“Yeah, I know. I was just callin to tell you that Yev is on his way.”

Mickey knew Yev wouldn’t wait any longer then he had to. He was eager to see Ian alive, just as he was. But at the mention of his sons name sent a feeling of dread and paranoia over him. His suspicions were just, they made sense. The evidence led to an intruder inside that house. But it was hard for him to think his son was capable of doing something like this. 

“Baby?”

Mickey shook himself out of those dark thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinkin too hard.”

“Anything I need to worry about?”

“I’m not sure really. Some stuff came up at the Lishman house, not good shit and I need to…I don’t know, talk it out maybe?”

“Yeah, of course we can do that when you get a chance. Maybe Olivia can help too? She does know more about the case.”

Mickey knew Ian was only trying to help. But this was not something he could talk to her about. Or Yev, not unless he absolutely had to. “Not a good idea. The shit I need to talk about could get me landed in jail.”

“Jesus Mick, what goin on?”

“I can’t talk about it on the phone. It’s probably all for nothing anyways. We can talk later.” 

Ian actually sounded worried. Which he should be. He was. He was worried that he put his career and life at risk for nothing if it turned out Candice really did kill them both. But if not? He couldn’t take that chance. But he also needed to talk it out. Maybe Ian would call him crazy, maybe he would tell him he’s being paranoid. But what if he agreed with his assessment of the crime scene? 

“When? Yev won’t stay for more than an hour. Can you get off after that? Cuz now I’m a little worried.”

“No, I have to…” he stopped mid sentence. Was he supposed to tell Ian about meeting Lip? What would it help to tell him that they needed to talk about his funeral? Especially when Ian was talking in his ear. “I gotta talk to Mags and wait for the results from the crime scene.”

“Okay…tonight?” Ian asked again.

Fuck. Lying was never good. It just felt wrong, like he needed to take a shower after. He just knew if Ian knew he was talking to Lip, he might want to tell him. It wasn’t a surprise that Lip had felt Ian at the house, they were close. But it was one thing to have a creepy, yet comforting feeling, then it was to see your dead brother walking around. He just wasn’t sure.

“Tonight for sure, promise.” 

“Okay, tonight then. Just be careful okay? And try not to worry, we can figure it all out.”

Mickey smiled and felt a little bit better. “I’ll try, and thanks.”

“No need to thank me baby, that’s what I’m here for. I love you.”

Mickey’s smile morphed into a grin. “Love you too.” He ended the call before that overly domestic ‘couple talk' took control and he raced home to get back into the domestic shit. He really shouldn’t like it so much. 

Thoughts of he and Ian and all that domesticity got packed to the back of his mind until later. Mickey watched as Olivia stalked around Jimmy. Hands on her hips in that totally defensive way. It would have seemed ridiculous if it wasn’t working so well. Jimmy was shifting in his seat, sweating. He looked like be was ready to crack. 

Mickey put on his best good cop face, relaxed his shoulders, unclenched his fists and made his damn eyebrows relax as he opened the door. Olivia smiled at him and took a seat off to the side.

“Mick, you gotta help me. She’s crazy!”

Mickey watched him shift away from her in his bright little jumpsuit. He wanted to fucking laugh. Jimmy was like a little baby in this place. He had no idea how to keep his shit together. But he couldn’t laugh, he had to play the nice cop this time. Nice cops don’t laugh.

“No lawyer?” He quirked an eyebrow at Olivia since the other chair was empty.

“He said he fired him. Doesn’t want another one.”

“Mickey, please?” Jimmy tried again.

“First, you better call me detective Milkovich and not Mick or Mickey.” He took a seat across from him and touched the file on the desk. “And why is detective Benson crazy?”

“She is trying to tell me that I can be charged with murder and aiding and abetting, conspiracy…crazy shit!” Jimmy huffed. 

Mickey glanced at Olivia. She had worked him over good in such a small amount of time. She was damn good. Too good. Maybe too good to buy the murder-suicide thing. 

“Well, we know you didn’t actually murder Ian Gallagher.” Jimmy let out a breath of relief, nearly sagging into the table. “But… with your parents dead, with Ian dead, we have no way of knowing the rest of the story. Now, just because your parents are dead, doesn’t mean they can't be convicted.”

Jimmy looked confused.

“Dead yes, but the entire world will be able to put a face to the crime. They would know your parents killed Ian Gallagher and that you helped them.”

“I didn’t help them!” Jimmy yelled and slammed his fist down on the table. “You said so yourself. I told you were I was when Ian left the club. You have me on video.”

Mickey dug through the file and located the picture from the video outside the Fairy Tale. “Yes, we have you on video. But there was nearly 45 minutes unaccounted for before the time of death. I have no way of knowing if you left and helped them.”

“What do I have to do to convince you?!” 

BINGO. 

Mickey leaned back; arms crossed loosely on his chest. “You can fill in all the little blanks I have. You can tell the truth. This is your last chance Jimmy. What you tell me tonight, dictates your charges. I can drop some or add a shit load more.”

Jimmy nodded and ran a hand over his face. “What all am I facing? My lawyer had a hard time sticking to the story.”

“Like I said, not murder. But you are gonna do time. First, we have accessory after the fact, means you knew about it after and didn’t do shit. Also, aiding and abetting, you knowingly helped them clean shit up and kept it quiet.”

Jimmy nodded. “And if I tell you, you can help me?”

Mickey shrugged. “Depends on if it all adds up and what the ADA says after but yes, I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

He caught Olivia’s smile. She knew he was full of shit. Yeah, he would tell the ADA that Jimmy cooperated and told them all the shit they didn’t know. But he would never help him get out of the remaining charges. There was no fucking way. Good thing Jimmy seemed about as stupid as he looked. 

“Okay, where do I start?” 

Mickey reached forward and clicked on the small tape recorder Olivia set out. “Let start with the phone call that lead you to Ian at the Fairy Tale.”

Jimmy nodded. “Uh, it was late, like 2 am. My dad called, freaked the hell out. Saying Ian was going to come clean and tell my mother about them. Said something like Ian wanted money or she was afraid he would take him away.”

Mickey nodded. So far so good. “So, to be clear, you knew your dad, Lloyd Lishman; had a sexual relationship Ian Gallagher?”

Fuck. He wanted to barf. To go down to the morgue and light Lishman on fire for being able to touch Ian in any way. 

“Yes, he told me after I caught them together at the hotel.”

“Okay good, then what?”

“He tells me to go to the Fairy Tale and try to convince Ian to let it go. He even offered to pay him off. But Ian didn’t seem to know what the hell I was talking about.”

“So you drive to his work, wait for him to get off and try to convince him to leave well enough alone, but he has no idea what you’re talking about.” Mickey summarized and Jimmy nodded. 

“So, Ian tells you to get bent and leaves. You head up to the front, to wait for your dad but your mom shows instead?”

Jimmy nodded and looked down at the table. “She told me just wanted to talk to Ian. I told her he wasn’t there, but she kept stalling. Trying to keep me around the front, she didn’t want me to call my dad.”

“That seems a little odd.”

“It was. I was on edge; my dad wouldn’t answer my call. So I left. I went back to Fiona's and stayed up waiting for him to call me.”

Mickey looked at Olivia. “Then what?”

“I barely made it home before my mom called again. She didn’t tell me why at the moment, just that I needed to get go the hospital. I thought my dad had an accident or something but…” Jimmy shook his head. 

Shit. This would be the detail they needed. Jimmy looked a little bit greener now too. Like he didn’t want to share the next part. 

“But?”

Jimmy looked up and didn’t stop the tears from falling. “But she lead me around the back and opened the trunk of her car. Ian was just laying there. Not moving. Not breathing.” 

Mickey fought the urge to palm his gun and shoot him in the fucking face. 

“I-I tried to get him to breathe, tried to figure out what happened. She started yelling.”

“What did she say?” Mickey clenched his jaw. 

“That he took too many pills at work and just stopped breathing. I didn’t believe her. Ian was on too many meds for party drugs. He was serious about staying put together.”

Jimmy was right. Ian was trying to keep his life straight. Ian had been doing good from what he could tell. Then it was all over. 

“We started yelling. I was afraid, she was angry. She said Ian was trying to take what was hers. That she had no choice but to stop him. That it was the only way.”

“Did you try to get help?”

“When I tried to leave, she pulled a gun from her purse.” Jimmy ran his fingers through his hair, then down over his face. “She had this look in her eyes, ya know? The one where you’d do anything because you were too scared not to.”

“So, she threatened to shoot you if you didn’t help her.” That was a little easier for a jury to buy. Fearing for his life. “Was your dad there?”

“No, she said he had to get back into the building. Just waved her gun at me and told me we had to get Ian inside.”

Jimmy was losing it. Each time he spoke, his throat thickened with emotion. It was clear he didn’t intend to help them cover up the crime. But he could have come forward sooner. It was easy to feel sorry for him, but he felt worse about Ian being taken away. 

“What happened when you were in the freezer?” 

“She had me take his clothes off, shoes too. Worried about hair or something. I just stuffed them into a box and when I turned around, I saw her peeling something off his arm.”

Mickey looked at Olivia again. The fentanyl patch. The one Lloyd probably slipped on Ian in the club. She had taken it off, which means it had been premeditated. 

There was a knock on the door and one look to Olivia and she stood up and slipped out, leaving them alone. Jimmy stayed quiet, silently crying and rubbing at his face. It was very convincing. Enough to sway a sympathetic jury. 

“Keep going.” Mickey prompted and it made Jimmy jump. 

“She started injecting him with stuff. Medicine. I thought maybe it might help but it didn’t fit. I don’t know where she got it all or what it was, but it was in a bag she had with her.”

“She was trying to cover up the cause of death. She peeled the patch off hoping it wouldn’t be noticed.” Mickey tapped his pen on the table, his foot tapped as well. Itching to get the hell out of this room and able to feel Ian’s heart beat. To remind him that Ian was a still with him.

“Then she uh…” Jimmy sobbed and put both palms against his eyes, “she shot him. Right in front of me. He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. I don’t even know if he was alive when the shot came.”

The door opened and Olivia slipped and in. She seemed a little surprised to see Jimmy openly crying, face flushed, eyes watery. She turned away from Jimmy and moved to bend down to his ear. 

“Fiona Gallagher is here. She wanted to talk to you.” Olivia whispered before she took her seat.

He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few days. Just before he arrested the Lishman’s. She never came back to the precinct and he had been too out of it to reach out to her.

“To answer your questions Jimmy, Ian was dead before the shot. He OD'd from that patch on his arm and the mix with his own drugs.”

Jimmy nodded tightly, unable to look up. “So there was no way I could have saved him?”

“No, there wasn’t.” 

“After she made me leave, I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t stomach seeing Fiona or the kids. I wanted to go to the cops but they’re still my parents.”

Fuck that. They stopped being his parents the moment they conspired to kill Ian. He didn’t give a damn if Jimmy felt guilty. He hadn’t done anything to help. Not a damn thing. Even after they had all been arrested. The only reason he spoke up now was to save his own skin. 

“So, you let Ian Gallagher sit in that freezer for four days…knowing that his family wouldn’t be asking about him. Four days Jimmy. You could have come forward.” Olivia stated, just making sure Jimmy knew and understood how fucked up it was. 

Mickey didn’t push when Jimmy didn’t answer. He was about to crack and lose it. “Why did you go back and help dispose of the body? Your mom didn’t have a gun on you then, did she?” 

“She told me that she would go to the cops and tell them I did it. Or if I didn’t come to help her, she would make sure it all landed on me.”

“Tell me.” Mickey prompted and squeezed the pen hard enough to make it crack. 

“I used this van I had stolen. It was one of those utility ones. She helped me get him inside and told me to dump him in the woods where no one would find him for a long time.”

“But you didn’t Jimmy.” Olivia chimed in when Mickey broke the pen. “You dumped him 3 blocks from his family’s home.”

“I didn’t want…I couldn’t. They would never have found him.” Jimmy insisted, hands flailing wildly around his face. “I shouldn’t have went along with it, but I did because she was my mom. If they didn’t find Ian, they would have started to worry, and search and I couldn’t see them go through that.”

Mickey slammed his fist down hard against the table, making them both jump. “You couldn’t make them go through that?” he laughed evilily. “You could not make them go through that…” he repeated and shook his head. “You help your parents get rid of Ian’s body, you don’t go to the police, you let me find him half naked for the entire world to see…but you objected to dumping him too far from their house?”

He had been worried about Jimmy cracking open like an egg…he should have been worried about himself. He expected Jimmy to come clean, but not in such gruesome detail. Not to hear how Ian was treated, even when he already knew for the most part. It seemed like Candice Lishman had been the one to orchestrate the majority of this. Without remorse. Without hesitation. Now it was he who was having a hard time not falling apart. He’d just heard how the man of his dreams was taken away. 

Pain flared in his chest. Sharp, mind numbing pain. It had his breath catching in his lungs, his ribs ached and stretched as if someone had their entire hand inside his chest, squeezing his heart.

“Fuck,” he put his hand to his chest and bent forward, trying to breathe past it. “Fuck!” he cursed again. He couldn’t get it to let up. It was because Ian wasn’t here. Ian calmed him each time, talked him through it. 

“Mick!” Olivia yelled and went around the table.

“God, it hurts!” He curled into her arm, breathing in slash of pain with each inhale.

“We gotta get some help!” she reached for her phone, but Mickey slapped it away. “You may be having another heart attack Mick; you need a hospital.”

He shook his head and pulled away from her. He moved away from Jimmy and the table, nearly crawling against the hard ground until his back was pressed against the wall. He needed Ian. 

And like magic, his phone started to ring. He closed his eyes as another wave swept into his chest and dug into his pocket for his phone. “Come on!” he panted as the phone slipped out of his hand and slid across the floor.

Olivia moved fast, grabbing the phone and bringing it to him. “Do you want me to…?”

Mickey shook his head and snatched it. “Just get away,” deep, ragged breath. “Shit, just gimme a sec.” He fumbled with the screen until he slid it to the right and put it to his ear.

“Baby, what is it?”

Ian sounded so worried. Scared. “Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so damn bad.” He closed his eyes and tucked closer to his knees.

“Just breathe baby, just calm down.” Ian coached and took a couple of deep breaths. “I can feel it Mick, you gotta calm the hell down.”

Mickey knew this. Even with Ian not being around and just hearing his voice and knowing that he wasn’t alone was enough to lessen the pain. “I’m trying.”

“Shh, don’t talk. Just breathe.” Ian let out a shuttering breath. “Imagine my arms around you, my hands on your chest. I know you can feel my heart beat on your back, right baby?”

Mickey nodded even if Ian couldn’t see it. He closed his eyes and held the phone with his ear so he could wrap his arms around himself. He could pretend it was Ian. Ian was breathing in his ear, rubbing his chest and he could feel a mirror of his heart beat against his back. Ian’s heart. Their heart. 

“Feel it?”

“I-I feel it.” He breathed in deep, wincing as it cut through his chest like a knife. “God, I hate this.”

“I know. I’m so sorry baby. I need to be there!!” Ian screamed into the phone. “Just stay with me. I’m on the way.”

Something other than pain was able to break through, fear. “No, you can’t.” he forced himself to breathe in deep. “You stay the fuck away.”

“No! Fuck you Mick. I’m coming!” Ian shouted back, his voice cracking into a sob at the end.

“I’m fine.” He forced out and took a few deep breaths so Ian would hear it. The fear of Ian being here, of them being found out, was enough to break him out of it and the pain didn’t seem as bad anymore. “Don’t come here. Please don’t.”

Ian sucked in a deep, ragged breath. “If you’re not fine in five minutes, I’m on my way to you Mick. I don’t give a damn who sees me.”

Breathe in…pain; breathe out; pain. Again and again. He didn’t talk, that just made it worse. He had Ian crying in his ear, threatening his own safety to come to him. There was no way that was happening. 

“I’m fine baby,” Mickey whispered the name, “I promise. It doesn’t even hurt any more.”

“I need you Mick, please.” Ian begged, trying to breathe past the tears. “You can’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he promised in an instant. Absolutely no hesitation. “Just stay there, okay? Please. I’m fine. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Oh Mick…” Ian sniffled softly. “I need you to be okay.”

“There is no me without you.” He felt his body relax. The pain was manageable. A dull thump every few skips. Nothing compared to how it had been. He was even able to open his eyes.

Olivia was sitting on the floor, eyes wide and watery, her mouth open a little in worry and surprise. Jimmy sit sat at the table, also looking a little worried. Fuck, he really hoped he hadn’t said Ian’s name…

“Feel that?” Mickey asked Ian, hearing the overly loud thump of his heart. “Do you?”

Ian took a deep breath and it ended in a sad, relieved chuckle. “I feel it baby, I feel it. You’re okay…we’re okay.”

“We’re okay.” Mickey repeated as he smiled. “Just stay with me a little bit longer…please?”

“Baby, I’m here with you forever. I promise.”

*  
(Yev's POV)

The L rolled to a stop, slowing down enough to jostle him forward. He had been listening to music the entire time. He ditched the stolen car Ian gave him at the station and hoped the first train. 

Something was wrong. He could feel it. Dread, worry, fear. Life threatening fear. It was like be trapped under a web, sticking to him in places and he couldn’t move or escape. Something, somewhere, with someone was very, very wrong. 

When it started or why, he couldn’t tell you. One second, he’s fighting off the urge to play air guitar and the next he was more afraid then he was when his dad was in the break room, unconscious. No, not more afraid….it felt exactly like that. But it was weird. Like he was the one looking down at the entire thing, a 3rd party. 

Yev wiped the nervous sweat off his head as he stepped off the L and onto the snowy, mushy ground. It was about 40 degrees outside; he shouldn’t be sweating like this. He looked around, expecting someone that passed to tell him what the hell was going on, when it vanished.

The fear and pain turned to relief, so much that be stopped walking and gave a little nervous laugh. What the hell was wrong with him? Was this the after effects of last night? Was he going to ping-pong around his emotions and feelings like this now? Is this what panic felt like? Did it come and go at random? One second, he was fine, the next worried about something…even if it didn’t feel like it was about him?

Yev was too busy trying to figure out that random swing of emotions that he failed to see he walked all the way home already. He was standing at the door to their apartment. “What the fuck?” He shook his head and unlocked the door. “Wow!”

It didn’t even look like their apartment anymore. It was way too clean, everything looked wiped down and dusted. Items that were scattered before where put in their places. It even smelled better than before.

“Ian?” He called as he hung up his wet coat and kicked off his boots.

Ian poked his head around the corner. “Hey kid.”

The smile he saved for Ian, slipped from his face. Ian didn’t look good at all. He wasn’t as spunky as he was before. Less excited to see him than he thought he might be. Ian seemed sad, worried. His eyes were red and a little puffy. He’d been crying.

Suddenly, that feeling was back again. Worry, fear, sadness. Only it was worse now. So much more forceful, it made his knees a little weak. What the hell was going on?

Ian moved closer; eyebrows drawn in. “Yev, you okay?”

He shook his head. “I’m not really sure….uh, I feel really freaked the fuck out for some reason.”

“Because of…?” he didn’t say it but hinted.

Yev shook his head. “No, when I think about that, it just makes me paranoid and sick, like sick to my stomach. This is different.” Yev took a step forward and grabbed the couch.

“You look a little pale.” Ian noticed and walked over to put his hand on Yev’s forehead. “Clammy too.”

Yev flinched because Ian also felt a little clammy. “I’m pale? Look at you, you really look like a ghost.”

Ian scuffed. “Asshole. That’s not helping.”

He nodded and swallowed down a mouthful of fear. Like someone was feeding it to him like it was food. It didn’t make any sense. “Fuck,” he groaned when he realized his entire body was shivering.

“Are you cold?”

“No, scared I think.” He hugged his arms around his body, trying to stifle the shakes. “I don’t know why I feel this way.”

Ian nodded and moved to sit with him against the arm of the couch. “Yeah, that kinda sounds like how I feel right now.”

Yev leaned against him, fighting the urge to cry and scream. “Why? What’s up with you?”

“Your dad over did it today. Made his heart start to hurt again.” Ian pulled Yev closer and wrapped an arm around him. 

“Shit! Is he okay?” 

Ian nodded. “Just had to talk him through it. Something must have set him off. Probably some bad information about the case.” He shook his head.

Yev shivered as fear spiked through him again. “Fuck, I feel like I’m having a panic attack.” He gripped Ian’s t-shirt and balled it in his fist. “I don’t understand Ian.”

“Shhh,” Ian squeezed him close as he gave those ragged, fear induced breaths. “You just have a lot going on right now kid, just try and stay calm.” He took a deep breath to push back all his own fear to help Yev.

Each word, each breath Ian took helped calm him down. His head dropped against Ian’s chest and he listened intently to the sound of his heart. Steadily beating, aside from that skip every 3rd beat.

“Your heart is skipping.” Yev mumbled and kept listening. 

“It’s because your dads does it. After the heart attack, it skips a beat. I’ve gotten used to the feeling but the pain…” he trailed off.

Yev knew what Ian was going to say. He had no idea how he knew, but he felt it. He saw the moment Ian thought the words. 

“The best way to describe it is…”

They both spoke at the same time, in the same moment. “A pulsing ache.”

Everything stopped. Ian looked at him with wide eyes and Yev could swear he felt his fear. Impossible. But he wasn’t afraid in this moment, but Ian was. Was he able to read Ian that well? Maybe knowing he was afraid was just instinct. He just described pain he never felt before. Described it like it was his own.

“Did your dad tell you what it feels like?” Ian asked, feeling his heart beat faster as he waited for the answer.

Yev shook his head. “He won’t talk to me about it. At all.”

“Then how did you know?”

“Lucky guess?” Yev asked because he didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. Maybe he was just super intuitive at the moment and Ian wasn’t doing a very good job at masking his emotions.

“That’s…”

“Odd?” Yev asked quickly.

Ian nodded, eyes wide again. 

“I’m just thinkin too much,” Yev moved away from him and walked to get a beer from the fridge. “So, you been playing Susie Home Maker?” he asked, trying to change the subject 

Ian snorted, choosing to let all that weird shit drop. “Someone had to. Since I’m fuckin trapped here.”

Yev frowned. “It won’t be forever Ian. Dad will figure something out.”

Ian nodded. “He always figures shit out.” He gave Yev a look that said it all. “I talked to him earlier. He said we needed to talk, him and I and he didn’t want to do it on the phone.”

Yev cursed and finished the beer quickly. “You think he knows?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. He didn’t say for certain, he just said he couldn’t talk to Olivia unless he wanted to go to jail.”

“Fuck, fuck. That’s not good. I swear. I didn’t leave anything that would tell him or Olivia that someone else was there.”

Yev scanned his mind quickly, trying to remember if he made any mistakes. No prints, he wore gloves. No chance of outside cameras, he wore a mask and lifted shoes to make himself taller. He didn’t pick the lock; he snagged the key above the doorway. No alarm, he cracked the code and set it again before he climbed out the top window. 

There was nothing he could think of that would suggest it was something other than murder-suicide. Okay yeah, the wife woke up after the first shot. She scrambled out of bed, but she was drunk and didn’t get far. He was in and out in under 15 minutes. 

“If anything feels out of whack, he’s gonna know something is up Yev. He is comin home tonight to talk about what’s on his mind, so you may not want to be here.”

Yev nodded. “I’ll just stay at Nick’s again. But you gotta let me know ASAP what he says or thinks.”

“I will. Just keep it cool if he calls or anything like that. I’m willing to lie to protect you Yev, but if it starts to take a toll on him, like if he begins to obsess over it, we gotta tell him. We can’t risk his health.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” He gripped his hair and pulled as he paced the kitchen. “Should I tell him?”

“No, like I said, play it cool and we can see where he stands on it later. But if anyone asks, you were here the whole night.”

“I know. He was out for half of it, but Nick can say I showed up before he left, and I’ll be covered.” 

“Good.” Ian let out a deep breath. “So, other than us freaking out and plotting shit,” he smiled when Yev laughed, “how you been? Shit with Nick okay?”

Yev shook his head. “I keep forgetting you were there for all of it.”

“Yup, even the swing you took on your dad.”

Yev winced. “I’ll admit it wasn’t my finest moment. Just was going through some shit. But it’s good now.”

“If you’d rather not…” Ian shook his head, “I’m not fishin for deets to your dad, just hope shit worked out.”

“It’s cool Ian, I know he doesn’t wanna hear or see any of it.” He hated that the most. His dad not wanting any part of it. “Just sucks, ya know? Not able to tell anyone.”

Ian nodded. “Trust me kid, I know.”

Ian really did know. He was dead for half their relationship, a ghost. Invisible. Now he was back, but still dead and couldn’t be a normal couple with his dad. 

“Yeah, I guess you do. But at least he can talk to me about you and him. He has already. I just wish I could at least have that with him.” 

“I don’t want to sound like a parent Yev, so I won’t say what I’m thinking cuz you already know.”

Yev smiled. Ian was right. He knew this would happen if he dated Nick. Secrets, sneaking. His dad’s lack of approval and interest. And for the most part, he was happy. Being with Nick was all he’d wanted. But he wanted people to know how happy he was. He wanted his dad to be willing to ask and care. But asking him for that was just too much. 

“Can I ask when you realized you liked guys?” 

Yev blushed and Ian saw it. “Do I have to say?”

Ian chuckled. “No, I won’t make you say it. And I’m flattered.”

“God,” he laughed and blushed harder. He was feeling giddy enough for two people. “After that, it was like my eyes opened ya know? I tuned out girls, tuned into guys, all without realizing it.”

Ian nodded. “And Nick?”

“He has just always been there. Ya know? For two, nearly three years. Saw more of him then my dad.” He snorted when Ian grinned. “Not like that, perv. And it just happened. Shit kept feeling better. More comfortable around each other. We became friends but there was that underlying layer that wouldn’t go away no matter what.”

“It may not feel like it, but your dad understands more than you’d think.”

“Yeah?” he arched his eyebrows. “How so?” 

“Yev, you and Nick are basically me and him.” Ian smiled.

“What?”

Ian chuckled. “Just hear me out. No weird shit, not sexual shit either so don’t worry.”

Yev felt a little hotter, flushed maybe just from the thought of him and Nick, and weirdly of Ian and his dad…what the hell? He put a hand to his cheek, but he was cool to the touch. Ian looked a little red in the cheeks though.

“I see it like this; you and Nick found each other when you weren’t meant to. A part of each others world but not meant to cross into it like that. You know it’s probably wrong to be together, yet you can’t stay away. Everything tells you to be with him, no matter what.”

Yev blinked slowly like he was just now seeing it all.

“See what I mean? Look, I was apart of your life for years Yev and I never met your dad. In his world but never meant to cross into it. A fluke, that fluke being my death…”

They winced at the same time.

“It brought me to your dad. It brought me back. I couldn’t stay away, and he couldn’t either. Even with no hope of ever being together, or of me leaving. We were drawn together.”

Yev was looking into Ian’s eyes, when suddenly his body started to heat. His legs tingled, goosebumps flared down his back, making him shiver. His eyes slipped closed as that incredible feeling caressed down his body, making him harden in an instant. 

“Fuck…” he groaned without meaning to. 

He had no reason to feel like this right now. Nothing that he was thinking or feeling should have him feeling turned on. Sex was not on his mind. Not even a little bit. But his body reacted like he had been wrapped around Nick like a starfish.

“Uh, Yev?” Ian asked with wide eyes.

He choked back another moan. “Yeah?”

“What’s happening right now?” Ian felt his heart pounding fast. 

“No fucking idea.” He nearly folded in half when another wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over him. “Fuck, this is impossible.”

Ian had no idea what was going on, but it was both odd and very inappropriate. “What were you thinking about?”

Yev shook his head. “Nothing sexual. Just comparing the shit you said about Nick and I to you and my dad. Nothing that should do this.” He groaned and turned away when his dick smashed against the zipper in his jeans. 

“You sure? If you were, it’s not a big deal.” Ian tried to reason with him. He was the one that jumped to the sexual part, trying to describe what be felt for Mickey would do that. 

“Damnit Ian, no. I was thinking about the damn similarities between us four.” He took a deep breath and tried to breathe around it. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

It was odd. It wasn’t exactly a feeling that he caught. It was more of a train of thoughts that assaulted his mind. Images of sweating skin and muffled groans. Like a movie flashing into his mind. Showing him images at warp speed. 

The images were chaotic, fuzzier the more he tried to focus on them. Each time he came close to figuring out what the image was, it would vanish, replaced by another one. 

“This is crazy,” Yev muttered as he rubbed over his face. “I don’t understand what I’m thinking right now.”

Ian took a step forward and all that seemed to was add to it. “Like what? Tell me. We can figure it out.”

He focused on Ian’s voice as he flipped through the slideshow of images. “They move so fucking fast….uh,” he hesitated until one popped into his mind. “Um, I see scars, tattoos…fuck, I can hear groaning. Bodies moving.” He whispered, trying to push thoughts away and grip them tighter at the same time.

“Uh okay, so sex then. Does Nick have…scars?” Ian offered, totally uncomfortable asking about this shit but Yev was freaking out. 

Yev shook his head. “They aren’t mine I don’t think…” he trailed off when a clear image of a tattoo appeared in his mind. An eagle, on the right side of his ribs. Yev’s eyes widened as he blinked the image away, staring at Ian like he’d ever seen him before.

“What? What is it?” Ian pressed. Yev looked more freaked out then just a second ago. Eyes wide, mouth dropping open. He was shocked. 

Holy shit. Yev couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, or he could but he wouldn’t. The longer he stayed there, the more the images came until he felt like he needed to bleach his brain. “Fuck, I gotta go.” He pushed past Ian and grabbed his shoes.

“Yev, what’s wrong?” Ian followed after him. Freaking out as well. “Please don’t leave. We can figure it out.”

Yev shook his head and tossed his jacket on. “It’s not you Ian, I just need to figure something out.” He paused to see Ian not looking at him any more. “I promise I’ll explain when I can.”

“Yeah, okay. Just as long as everything is good.” Ian offered a smile, a fake one. He just didn’t feel it. 

Yev paused as he reached for the door with a shaky hand. Even with that small hesitation, let another image float to the front if his mind. Tattooed hands gripping at Ian’s shoulders, digging in until there were red welts.

“No! Fuck, I gotta go!” He yelled and bolted out of the apartment. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible and wrong. So fucking wrong. He didn’t need images like that pushing into his mind and he damn sure didn’t need his body responding to them like he was the one…no. Just no.

Yev moved quickly back to the L. Shoving past people, knocking shoulders and elbows as he tried to run from the images. He turned the last corner and ran smack into someone’s elbow. Whoever it was had been using their hands to talk and he ran into it. The pain was welcomed. It took his mind off the other shit. Especially when his lip split because of it and blood slowly trickled down his lip.

Before the man could say sorry, Yev pushed past and slipped past the doors before they could close. He leaned back, not bothering to take a seat. His body slowly calmed down, no longer flushed with arousal but nervousness. 

Something was wrong. He felt it before he saw Ian and he felt it now. Maybe the shit with Ian, the soul swap hadn’t worked as it was supposed to. 

**

(Ian’s POV)

He had no idea what the hell just happened. Yev had left about 5 minutes ago and he was still standing helpless and lost at the door. Yev seemed so freaked out, so worried. He even looked a tad bit green under the flush of desire. 

Shit. It could have been a flash back. Images from the murder, it could have been fear he saw in Yev’s eyes instead of lust. It was confusing as all hell and he had no idea what to do or how to help. 

“Fuck.” Ian groaned and moved to the fridge as Yev had and grabbed a beer. He popped the top and took a long drink. When he pulled back, a drop of blood balanced on the rim. “What the hell?” Ian swiped the drop of blood away, then felt his bottom lip. 

There was a split in it, like he took an elbow to the face.


	23. Lost

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 23-Lost

(Lip’s POV)

Lip took one last look around Ian’s empty apartment. It didn’t seem like Ian’s any more. Everything had been moved, items scattered all over the place. Furniture tipped over from when Mickey searched the house. The bed had been stripped of all sheets and blankets as well. It seemed like the more the place got rearranged the less he felt Ian.

After hitting the bank and guarding his pockets like a master, he made the trip up here. Paid the douche bag manager his $500 bucks and hoped to God the guy was serious and he didn’t just get ripped off. 

He couldn’t leave it like this. It felt too fuckin weird. Lip wasn’t sure how Ian kept his apartment exactly, but he worked his way around the room, picking shit up. Putting it back, like the couches and all the magazines that had spilled off the table. He picked up the trash that had been dumped, cleared Ian’s kitchen of all the bad smelling, rotten food. 

Of all the things the manager wanted to bitch about, and he didn’t notice the smell? Only thing that fucker smelled was green. Money made the world go around, as people always said. 

The longer he stayed, the more shit he picked up, the better he felt about it. Which was ridiculous of course. Ian would never set foot in this place again. He didn’t care how it looked or if shit was broken or missing. Ian didn’t care if all his shit got loaded into boxes with his name slapped on the side and stuffed into the Gallagher basement until Spring cleaning. Ian didn’t care if he kept paying the bill and left it all here as some sort of twisted shrine. Ian didn’t care because he was dead. Gone. Forever.

“Fuck.” Lip sucked in a deep, shaky breath as he took a seat on the edge of the bare bed. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ian was supposed to be there with them, with him. Even if he never got the chance to visit outside of Christmas break and summer, he wanted Ian to be around. Ian was far from perfect, but he deserved better. From all of them. Ian deserved to live. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen Ian.” Lip mumbled into the quiet, empty room. He looked around, wishing Ian would be leaning against the back of the couch, those skeleton arms crossed, and his chin jutted out. “You are supposed to be here right now.”

The tears finally fell when he noticed a picture of them in a dorky frame on Ian’s desk. It had been taken at a Sox game, Ian had one of those foam fingers on his hand and that goofy ass smile. Ian’s other arm was draped across his shoulder as they smiled. 

It seemed so long ago, instead of this past season. Who knew after that picture was taken, that so much would have changed? Who knew it would be their last game, or that Ian would never see another Christmas? That was the last time he’d seen Ian, as at that game. He came home for spring break at the same time the season started. First game of the season and they went together. Months ago. A lifetime ago.

What kind of brother was he? Seeing his family only once or twice a year for a weekend or two. He was never around, missing from their lives. For fuck sakes, he knew Ian was in a bad relationship with Raines and left him to handle it alone. 

Lip growled as his arm came out and crashed into the picture on the desk. It dislodged from the top, as well as a bunch of shit stacked in a pile, sending it all clattering to the ground.

“FUCK!!” Lip screamed and pushed the rest of the shit off the desk until it was bare. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He cried and fell to his knees on the floor. Surrounded by the destruction he caused.

The picture frame had been cracked, a piece of broken glass setting on the ground next to it. It would been so much better if he’d died and Ian lived. Ian was the better person, while he ran off to school, Ian stayed and worked his ass off to keep his shit together, to help Fiona keep her shit together. Ian was living in a life full of abuse, abuse that they’d known about, and still managed a smile for them. A ‘don’t worry about me' saying each time they asked. 

Ian was always there, offering a shoulder to cry on, bloody fists if you needed back up, would let you talk his ear off and actually pay attention. Ian would give you the last bit of cash he had, or the shirt off his back if you asked him. Or even if you didn’t. 

Despite all he went through, he was always there. Ian deserved to be there right now. 

Lip didn’t wipe the tears off his cheeks as he grabbed that jagged piece of glass and the picture frame. He balanced the frame on his leg while he carefully thumbed the sharp edge of the shard of glass. One little push and it would cut his thumb. 

Lip felt numb, felt nothing for the first time in nearly a month. He’d been so busy trying to keep everyone together, to keep shit as normal as it could be for Liam. Keep the bills paid, sit with Debbie as she cried until make up covered her face. Sit an argue and yell with Carl until Carl started punching walls, nearly breaking his thumb before he could stop him. Or Liam, only 8 years old and asking why Ian wasn’t around to help him with soccer practice. Or asked when he was coming back. 

He’d also been busy trying to keep Fiona from evaporating. Even willing to pick fights with her about dumb shit just so she would talk, or yell back at him. He took over paying her bills, gave up his life at school. His future. Knowing that Ian didn’t have one any more kinda made it all unappealing.

He never had time to sit back and feel it. He didn’t know if he needed to cry until his eyes popped out, or hit something until he broke all 27 bones, in each hand. Lip didn’t know if he needed to curl up and sleep for two weeks straight or break his sobriety and drink away his feelings. 

Kinda like the feelings he was having now with the broken glass in his hand. His hand didn’t shake when he moved the edge to his wrist like he thought it would. It was steady and that should have scared him. He didn’t feel the coolness of it against his hot skin. 

All he saw, was the pictures of Ian’s body in the morgue. It had been in a file left on Mickey’s desk. It would have been better if he hadn’t looked. But his mind would have conjured up so much worse if he didn’t look. He was a man, the oldest Gallagher boy, he could take it. He could see the pictures and handle them. 

“Please,” Lip whispered brokenly, “just come back.”

Lip’s eyes widened as he quickly flicked his wrist and slashed the glass in a clean, straight line. Blood welled instantly, sliding down his arm, dripping onto the faces of him and his dead brother. He didn’t feel it. Not at all. Not the warm of the blood or the cold from losing too much of it. He didn’t feel anything but the numbers of it all. 

Lip blinked, squeezing his eyes closed. When he opened them, the glass was still in his right hand, and his wrist was unmarked. No cut or blood. Nothing. 

Disgusted with the very thought of doing that, of ending his pain the silent, easy way, the way that would decimate the rest of his family, Lip tossed the glass against the wall for it to shatter and barely had enough time to scramble into the bathroom before throwing up his coffee. 

His body shook as he expelled more than coffee from his body. He tossed everything. Those sick, awful thoughts. Thoughts of giving up. He left his self doubt and pity at the bottom of the bowl and flushed it away. He wiped his mouth, then his tears and leaned against the cool ledge of the bathtub and cried. He cried for it all, for everything. For Ian, their family, for himself over what he lost. His best friend, his little brother. 

“I’m sorry Ian,” Lip cried again, heaving himself off the bathroom floor to try and make it to the door. He grabbed the broken picture off the ground and about an inch or two away from the front door, he walked into a cold spot. Like freezer cold, like Montana in the middle of winter cold. Only it didn’t make him jump away, it felt familiar. It felt good enough to make him cry harder as he stood there, surrounded by the cold.

**

(Ian’s POV)

After that weird shit with Yev, Ian couldn’t stand to be at the apartment for another minute. For the life in him, he did not understand what the fuck had happened. It all started as a little back and forth conversation about their individual relationships, then Yev start acting like a horny teenager. The worst part was, he hadn’t even said anything sexual. He thought it, sure. The more he compared Nick and Yev, to him and Mickey, the more shit flashed into his mind. 

Images of Mickey under him, those amazing thighs locked around his hips. Tattooed knuckles scraping down his back with each and every hard, desperate thrust. Leaving red welts in their wake and he welcomed each and every single second of pain. Pain that morphed into the greatest pleasure he’d ever known. 

But he hadn’t shared that with Yev. He would never. Not even for ‘dad’s boyfriend/son’ bonding time. It was widely inappropriate. He just wanted to tell Yev that he wasn’t alone. That his dad understood and cared even when he said and acted like he didn’t. 

Yev had acted like he was in his mind. Digging around his dirty thoughts. Impossible. But something bad happened. Yev had reacted to something and freaked the hell out over it. Leaving him standing there, feeling like he crossed a line and no one to talk to about it.

So he left. He grabbed Mickey’s heavy jacket, a Sox cap and a dark pair of sunglasses and headed out. He flipped the hood on the jacket and tried to keep to himself. He kept his head down all the way to the L. Giddy to be out in the world, for a few people to bump his shoulders as they pushed past him in a hurry. A few people smiled at him when he made the final walk to his apartment. He gratefully smiled back, just happy to be seen and entered his building. 

Ian dodged the camera by the door, pulling his hood to cover his face as he walked by. You never know if Mickey or Olivia would come back for some reason and they did not need to explain why he was on camera. Sneaking past the old doorman was easy as well. 

He had no idea if his apartment was still there. Obviously, the room itself was there but it had been 3 weeks since he was tangled in the sheets with Mickey. They probably tossed his shit or gave it away, rented his place out to the first to step up. It kinda hurt to think that it would be gone. His life was in there, as pathetic as it sounded. 5 years of living on his own, 5 years of making himself, was in that room. It was pathetic. His entire life was reduced to a thousand square feet.

It was different now. Even if it wasn’t his place anymore. It wasn’t his home. His home was with Mickey. It didn’t matter if he was a ghost and they kept time between crimes scenes and touching each other whenever they had a spare minute, or when he was back, alive and they could take their time on a bed. Moving together like soul mates or sharing breakfast. His home was wherever Mickey was. He would follow him anywhere, gladly, and with a smile on his face.

Only less then a month had passed since he died. Barely 30 whole days and nights. Most of them spent with Mickey. His Mickey. The only thing that made all this worth it. Without Mickey, he probably would have just faded away into nothing. Doomed to leave the earth without love or justice. Without blue eyes and that wicked mouth. Just thinking about not having Mickey’s heart made him panic.

Ian stood at the door to his apartment, lost in the deep recesses of his mind. Beyond this door was his old life. A life he knew he would never be able to return to. His family, Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl and little Liam, were gone. The only thing that made it easier is that eventually they would be able to heal and move on. They were strong enough to do it. 

He couldn’t do it. His hand rested flat against the door and he couldn’t open it. He didn’t need to open it. There would be no closure to see it. The only thing he would remember, the only thing that mattered, was Mickey tangled up in his bed. 

“Goodbye Ian Gallagher….” He chuckled at his totally lame goodbye to his old life. He tapped the door once and turned to leave. 

That’s when he heard the crash from inside. Loud, broken pieces of something scattered in the door and the hopeless sound of crying. Ian didn’t hesitate again. The door was unlocked, and he pushed his way inside. 

It was Lip. Sitting on the floor by his desk, surrounded by scattered papers and broken glass. Utterly wrecked. Crying, heart breaking sobs. There was a broken picture frame in his lap and a jagged piece of broken glass in his right hand. 

Ian could see what he walked into. Lip was about to break. Maybe he already had. He had that air about him, like he’d just decided to give up. Lip didn’t give up on anything. He was a fighter. 

“Please, just come back.” 

Ian rushed to him; eyes wide. He knew what Lip was about to do. There was no way he could let it happen. Not because of him. Their family needed him. 

Lip seemed to realize what he was about to do and tossed the glass away before he could get any closer, then he was rushing to the bathroom. Ian sagged against the wall as he heard Lip empty his stomach. Gagging and crying, those little whimpers that broke his heart. 

“I’m sorry Ian.” He heard Lip mumble a few seconds later, his voice raw and emotional. 

Eventually, when it was clear that Lip wouldn’t come out, Ian hauled himself up off the floor. He needed to leave before Lip saw him. He promised Mickey they would wait. Now that he knew Lip wasn’t about to hurt himself, he felt okay leaving. Ian managed to get to the door before Lip came stumbling out.

“Shit!” He whispered to himself, frantically looking around for a place big enough to hide behind. He fucked up bad. 

Only nothing happened. He stood there like a pale, dead mannequin and Lip stood inches away from him. And nothing. Nothing. Like he was invisible again. But he was alive, right? Yev could see him, Olivia had heard his voice. Lucy had seen and heard him, she fed him for fuck sake. People had bumped into him not 20 minutes ago and now, NOW his own brother couldn’t see him?!

“What the actual fuck!?” He looked up and screamed. He had no idea if he was screaming at God or the universe in general. Whoever the fuck that made the damn rules. Whoever had taken him away from Mickey. They were fucking with his life. Or what was left of it. “Seriously? My own brother, you piece of shit, tree-hugging, soul-takin motherfucker!” 

Lip was looking at the frame when he turned around to kick the front door hard enough to have it rattle. Lip seemed oblivious to it all. “He’s right fuckin there, asshole. I’m not some goddamn chess piece you get to move around and knock other pieces into me.” He was back to shouting at the ceiling like a lunatic. “Just stop being a piece of shit control freak and let me talk to him!”

Nothing but silence in return. Ian was panting, heart beating fast enough for it to give that signature skip. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, not bothering to wait for permission before they fell against his cheeks. 

And as he knew it would, his phone started to ring. It would be Mickey. He probably felt the heart spike and wanted to reach out. Ian didn’t answer it. He couldn’t. He just stared at Lip and let it ring in his pocket.

Any minute Lip would leave. He needed this to happen right now. Lip needed it too, possibly more than him. “Please,” Ian cried, feeling more tears fall, “you took me away from Mickey you bitch, you fuckin owe me this.”

Ian was just about to give up and leave, drink himself into a coma and wait for Mickey to piece him back together, when Lip let out a very loud, shaky gasp. Lip was looking at him, blue eyes wide and watery. Blinking fast as if he thought he was dreaming… 

“Ian?” Lip cried, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

Ian gave a little smile. He hadn’t expected his threats and crude language to work. He also didn’t have a game plan for it going his way. 

“What the fuck?” Lip asked, eyes still wide. 

“Hey Lip,” fuck, he felt stupid. Hey? Really? 

“You motherfucker!”

Ian didn’t have time to brace for the punch, it connected, and his head snapped back. Pain flared through his face and already his nose was bleeding. Lip still had a fist full of lead and he fucking loved it. 

“What the fuck is happening?!” Lip screamed and threw the photo against the wall.

Ian wiped his nose with the back of his hand and scrunched his nose, not broken. “Okay, so I deserved that.”

Lip just glared at him, looking every bit of the lunatic he felt when he was calling the universe names. Ian ducked when Lip swung for the second punch. Lip’s fist went sailing over him and he had to shoulder against Lip’s stomach to shove him back.

“You crazy motherfucker! How could you do this to me? To us!? Huh, you pull some shit like this; fake your death and break our damn family?!”

Ian huffed and shook his head. “If you give me a minute to explain, you prick, instead of punch your way to answers, I would tell you.”

“What’s there to tell?!” Lip yelled again, hands curling into fists as he waited to lunge at him again. “You better tell me what the fuck is happening before I actually kill you.”

Ian took a step back as Lip’s eyes produced that threatening twinkle. “You can’t kill me Lip,” he took a deep breath, “I really did fucking die.”

“Are you off your meds?” Lip scuffed, moving back to run his hands over his face. “If you ‘died',” he made sarcastic air quotes, “how the hell are you standing here right now?”

“Look, I can’t tell you all of it because I don’t know half the shit you’re gonna ask me.” His defensive demeanor faulted a little, leaving him a little emotional. He really missed his brother. “The only thing I know, is that I came back. One minute it’s all dark, the next I’m walking around but no one can see me.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re off your fuckin meds.” Lip shook his head. “Of all the shit you’ve pulled over the years, this is just fucking sick.”

Ian swung before he could talk himself out of it. He cracked Lip right across the jaw, wincing a little when his teeth clacked together. Lip stumbled back, nose dripping blood, but he didn’t hit him back. 

“Fuck you!” He panted, sucking back the urge to let go and cry. “You think I’d do this just because? Even off my meds I’m not that far gone! I’m not Monica!” Lip’s face softened just a little. “I don’t know why the hell this is happening. I didn’t ask for someone to drug me…”

“Ian…” 

Ian shook his head, cutting him off and trying hard not to break down. When he spoke, his voice cracked, letting all that emotion out. “I didn’t ask to be….” He gave a pathetic chuckle, “I didn’t ask to be raped Lip. I didn’t ask to die.” 

The tears fell without his consent. Pouring down his face and making it hard to catch his breath. Lip became a blurry figure in front of him and when he tried to hug him, Ian jerked away. 

“I’m sorry Ian,” Lip reached out again, thankful when he didn’t jerk away. He gripped Ian behind the neck and pulled him in for a hug. “Oh, my God. You’re really here.”

Ian nodded into his neck and squeezed him tightly. The tears worsened, turning into body shaking sobs as he finally let it all out. As much as he’d been through over the last month, he never let himself stop and feel it. He never felt bad for himself until this moment. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” He sobbed and gave in, letting his big brother take over like he used to. Lip always handled his shit when he was younger. He could damn sure do it now. “I didn’t ask for this…”

“Shhhh, I gotcha Ian.” Lip squeezed harder, one hand gripping Ian’s hair while the other smoothed up and down his back. “We can figure this out, okay?”

Ian didn’t nod because he wasn’t so sure he could figure it all out. Mickey had been saying that for weeks and delivered for the most part. But shit had only gotten more complicated, not less. He had no idea what to do. 

His boyfriend kept trying to die on him. Yev, his not-son had killed for him, performed some weird soul swap that didn’t seem like it worked. Someone higher up was messing with his controls. Making him invisible, then whole, then back to invisible. He would never be able to live his life again. Now this weird sexual confusing shit with Yev….he had no idea where to start.

“Ian,” Lip tried again when he didn’t get his answer, “I don’t know what all this is or how to fix it but…” he squeezed Ian tighter and his voice got thicker. “I really fucking missed you.”

Ian smiled and let his eyes fall closed as he rested it on Lip’s shoulder. "I fuckin missed you too."

*  
(Yev’s POV)

Yev stared at the research in front of him. Not the Lishman murder scheme, that was gone; burnt to a crisp. No, he was looking at the information he had found for the soul swap. He had it all laid out on Nick’s coffee table. Something was wrong. Maybe he did something the wrong way or left some shit out when he read it.

Whatever happened with Ian today, was not okay. He knew what he saw, what he felt. He felt Ian’s love for his dad, his desire. It tore through his body like an earthquake, shaking him down to the studs. He felt shit he never wanted to feel. He felt his dad’s nails digging into his back, could feel the heat of his breath on his face and the groans that flew into ears...no, not his. But Ian’s. He was seeing it through Ian’s eyes. Feeling it all and he couldn’t even say how wrong that felt. Intrusive, a little incestuous, just fuckin wrong. 

But it wasn’t just the sex either. All that shit he had felt on the L; the fear and worry had been Ian’s too. It came from his dad’s heart problems at work. It explained why he felt it so quick but had no reason to. It wasn’t a feeling. He didn’t feel scared, not really. But he had Ian’s thoughts in his head, and he saw how it freaked him out he felt it because Ian was thinking it and somehow those thoughts got streamed into his mind.

He didn’t read shit about this crap. All those articles and stories, all those first hand accounts said this shit would happen. Even that one story with the woman and her husband. Her husband died, then the moment his killer died, he was brought back. It took a year because that’s how long it took for his killer to have his one ‘accident.' Even with the mans body being cremated, he still came back. 

Yev sat down, after pacing for an hour, and dug through his browser history until that story was in his face again. He quickly read through it, finding the same story he already read. Same descriptions, everything was the same…

Until there was a link at the bottom of the article that said; click to read more.

Yev wanted to face palm himself. Had it been there the entire time and he didn’t notice? He really didn’t read the full article? What was even worse was, he acted on the soul swap before he had all the facts. Now he wanted to punch himself in the face.

Yev hesitantly clicked on the link and a full two pages of the same article appeared. “Fuckin stupid.” He mumbled and briefly got up to snag another cup of coffee, at 4 in the after noon. He was off his game and coffee helped. 

Yev read the remaining two pages and shut his laptop and pushed it away slowly. His head fell heavy between his shoulders and took a deep breath. 

There had been a police investigation into the guy who had been killed that whole year late. As it turns out, it was hardly a fluke, or karma. Someone had paid someone to kill the guy. And that someone, was the dead mans wife. The wife paid a couple of goons to off her husbands killer. 

Apparently, it took her a long time to figure out who killed her husband. But when she found out, she used the last of their savings and paid two people to kill him. So they did. Yev reread it over in his mind. She had done what he had done, all except paying for a hit, since he did that himself. That wasn’t the part that concerned him, however. The wife was later committed to a mental hospital, she claimed to be having visions, thoughts, of her husband’s death; flash backs. She also said she could see what he saw when he was waiting to be cremated. Even though he’d been dead, she could feel the heat of the fire when being cremated.

All in all, they thought she was insane. Locked her up, kept her away from the man claiming to be her husband. They didn’t believe it was ‘really' him. It never said when she got out and Yev knew it was probably because she hadn’t gotten out. She had died in that mental hospital.

If only that was the worse part to all he’d found. He went to the pages about soul swapping to check and make sure there were no more -keep reading, surprises. That info was the same, at least the first page. Google kept insisting he look at other ones, those however said different things about the soul swap.

One page said it could be fatal if there had been any hang-ups. Yev had run to the bathroom and tossed his first cup of coffee after reading that. Another page said it would be limited. That the reenergize soul might take awhile to gain full access. There would be periods of time when the soul couldn’t connect. So far that hadn’t happened yet. If the hickeys on Ian’s jawline and the images he saw, Ian was connecting very well. 

There was one more that turned his blood cold. One that if he knew before hand, that he might have hesitated more than 2 days before carrying out his plan. The soul swap was not between the victim and the killer, the swap was between the one who enabled the swap. Meaning, Ian didn’t swap souls with those North Side assholes, Ian swapped souls with him.

That didn’t mean that he was soulless now, or he hoped it didn’t mean that. It just meant that Ian was tied to him as well as being tied to his dad; both of the people who had saved him. It meant that he was linked to Ian in a way that might make shit weird. He was getting glimpses of Ian’s soul, that essentially was his; but Ian’s soul was full of his dad. Hence the thoughts and memories. 

Did that mean Ian would get the same from him and Nick? Ian’s soul was full of his dad, his soul was full of Nick and both halves of that soul was centered around love and sex. If he didn’t want any images or memories from Ian fucking his dad, he was damn sure Ian didn’t want to see him Nick. Already it was putting a strain on their relationship and they hadn’t even known about it, shit, Ian still didn’t know. 

And how the fuck was he supposed to tell them? 

Yev grabbed his phone, intent on calling a ‘family' meeting to talk it all out, when the front door open and Nick walked in, wearing his cop uniform. He went back to being a cop until his transfer to another precinct was complete. The phone got pushed to the back of his mind as Nick smiled and tossed that ridiculous hat onto the counter.

“Hey baby,” Nick smiled and held his arms out. “How’s it look?”

Yev swallowed thickly, eyes wide as they looked him over from head to toe. He forgot about Ian and his dad, he forgot about the fact that Ian might end up getting a glimpse of what was about to happen and focused on how fucking sexy he looked. He needed something to distract him from the weird shit going on.

“Uh, I think you should ditch being a detective and keep the uniform.” He grinned suggestively as he leaned back against the couch and planted both feet on the edge of the table, so his legs were spread wide enough for his shoulders. 

Nick chuckled. “Gracias Yevy, but that’s like a CEO going back to being a fry cook. I need to get my transfer done.”

Yev knew Nick couldn’t and wouldn’t, shouldn’t have to settle for a lower paying, 10 times more dangerous job. He loved being a detective, but the uniform had him aching to peel it off of him. 

“Any chance you can keep the uniform after?” Yev asked and slid a hand under the baggy t-shirt he nabbed from Nick that morning. Brown eyes followed the movement and it sent a chill down his spine.

Nick slowly walked forward, unclipping the gun from his hip to place it on the counter top before walking closer. His eyes fucked their way across Yev’s body, trying to get a peek up the baggy leg of his basketball shorts. “Considering I had to pay for this myself, I’d say yes. You got a thing for uniforms carino?”

“I have a thing for you in a uniform and I’m afraid I’m gonna have to search you for weapons.” Yev tried to keep a straight face but the line was so bad he giggled a little and motioned for Nick to stand in front of him.

“I have a weapon for you sweet heart,” Nick stood between his feet, looking down with what he knew was that predatory look on his face. “It might be too big for a little thing like you to handle. I should probably help you. Hmm?”

Yev sat up, which put his face right in the cradle of Nick's hips. He kept his eyes up as he ran his hands up both sides of Nick’s thighs, feeling that new scratchy material until he could hook his fingers into his belt. “I think I do pretty good at handling big weapons. Maybe I should show you?” He arched an eyebrow. 

This entire thing was straight out of a B-rated porno. The uniform, the cheesy lines and weapon searches. But fuck if it wasn’t working for both of them right now. He could see how hard Nick was, almost pressed against the underside of his chin. And he was tenting the front of his shorts because he could see it and feel it. 

“Go ahead and show me baby, show me you can handle it.” Nick laced his fingers behind Yev’s neck and kept him close.

Yev moved his hands to Nick’s ass, squeezing roughly before moving down to the backs of his thighs, mimicking a search. Nick laughed happily, which made him smirk and move down to his calves. He had to tilt his head as he got lower and Nick gasped when his head rubbed against his groin. 

“Nothing so far…” Yev moved to the front and worked his way back up to grip his belt. “Maybe lower.” His hands moved down to rub over groin and Nick let out a needy groan. “Oh, my. That is a big weapon you have.”

Nick nodded and released him enough to undo the buttons on his shirt, so it split open. “Better take it out.”

He never worked so fast in his life as he did when he unbuckled the belt and let it drop noisily to the ground. He popped the button on the pants and yanked them down. He was halfway over the game, as fun as it was. He was still worked up from earlier, as fucked up as that sounded. He needed to get Nick all over him and forget all about it.

“Fuck, Nicky,” Yev growled as his pants hit the floor and all he saw was dark skin. No briefs. 

“You know I hate them,” Nick smirked and moved to stroke himself. Groaning as Yev licked his lips. “I'd rather have your sweet little mouth keeping me warm.”

His hands moved up to caress the hard, soft skin of his stomach and chest as his mouth chased Nick’s bobbing dick until he could suck him down to the back of his throat. He moaned at the feeling of his mouth being full like this and Nick’s hand in his hair tightened.

“Fuck baby,” Nick tipped his head back and fisted Yev’s blonde hair, helping him bob along his length. 

It didn’t take long to push Nick to that edge, to get him so worked up that he made him stop. Yev leaned back, lips slick as he watched the heated look Nick gave him. 

“Turn around.” Nick painted and peeled off his loose shirt. 

Yev slowly turned around so his knees were on the couch and gripped the back of it. Nick stepped up close and hands smoothed under his shirt and lifted it up for him to take off.

“Look at my beautiful baby…” Nick put his knees between Yev’s, and it had his groin up against that tight little ass.

Yev preened at the works, gripping the back of the couch as he pushed his ass back to feel Nick hard against him. “I want you Nicky.”

Nick leaned forward and nuzzled Yev’s neck. “How do you want it, hmm? You want it fast or nice and slow?” 

His hands slipped down to slip his shorts down past his ass, then grabbed Nick’s thigh and pulled him against him. “I want it slow this time, I wanna feel every thrust.”

Yev didn’t expect the hard bite to the side of his neck, just above his left shoulder blade. He groaned deeply, his head falling forward the second Nick pushed against his ass. Nick’s hand dug at his hip, leaving finger shaped bruises, while his other hand slipped to the front and Nick’s fingernails scraped across his hips, breaking the skin.

“You’re gonna make me come doin that.” His voice trembled when Nick licked over the bite. 

“I’m gonna make you come doin something else baby…” Nick promised, slowly grinding against him.

Yev draped himself over the back of the couch, groaning and pushing back when Nick opened him up. Each touch sent a shock wave through his spine, making him needy for his every touch. 

As Nick lined against him, one hand smoothing over the bite mark while the other gripped his hip, Yev couldn’t help but wonder if Ian would be feeling any of this. The thought faded slightly as Nick pushed in, but not before he felt a wave of hopelessness wash over him…Ian’s.

**

(Mickey's POV)

Mickey glanced at the photos of the Lishman crime scene laid out over his messy desk. He looked for signs, other signs of an intruder. But aside from the foot print, the drop of blood outside the window and the cell phone displaying 911, there was nothing. He successfully tampered with evidence. A crime. One worth of a good amount of jail time if someone caught him. That someone being Olivia. 

Speaking of the devil, she was walking back into the bullpen with a file in her hands. “Whatcha got Liv?’

Olivia sat at the desk connected to his. “Mags sped things up for me a little. The wife, Candice, had a blood alcohol content of 1.4; over twice the legal limit. She was smashed. The glass in the kitchen was hers, DNA and prints, not that we need it.”

Mickey nodded and didn’t point out that if she had really been that buzzed, there was no way the shot to Lloyd Lishman’s head would have been so perfect. “Well, I’m not surprised. Each time I saw her she was sloshed. Probably bad the shakes from forced sobriety in the can.”

“Her liver was on it’s last leg. Mags said she had a transplant about 4 years ago and was about to need another one.”

“For fuck sakes. She fucks up her body, gets the liver of someone else and used up that one too?” He shook his head in disgust. The transplant list was too damn long, people usually died before receiving what they needed. But the Lishman’s were rich, and the husband was a doctor, probably pulled all the strings he could.

“She was also a hard core drug user. A slew of shit in her tox screen, some of which we found in Ian’s too. Using her own supply, the shit she had on demand to drug him.”

“Any signs of your intruder?” Mickey quirked an eyebrow, teasing her when really, he was dead serious.

Olivia flipped him off. “I didn’t say we had one. I’m just saying the timing couldn’t have been more impeccable. It’s looking like she got drunk and killed them both.”

Mickey let out a deep breath. “Nothing else makes sense. The door was locked from the inside, dead bolted I might add, and the alarm was in place. Not to mention that neighborhood is too high risk.”

“And thanks to Jimmy, we filled in the rest of our missing pieces on Ian’s case. Don’t tell me we just closed two cases.”

Closing one case could take months. Sometimes half a year. So closing one was a big deal. But closing two that interconnected? That was pretty impressive. He may have cheated a little bit, but no one was perfect.

“Mags say anything else?” Mickey asked as he brought his cold cup of coffee to his lips. Even nearing 6, coffee was needed.

“Guns a match to the one from the lock box. Her prints on the gun, his thumb print on the lock; so she did use him to unlock it before she killed him.”

“That’s fucked up.” He chuckled, not in the good way. “Getting killed with your own gun is bad but unlocking it so someone can shoot you is worse.”

“Yeah, but karma is a bitch. They had it coming.”

Was that true? Did the world agree with him and put shit in place to make their deaths happen? He didn’t think so. He knew deep down who it was, even if he didn’t want to believe it. Even if it seemed impossible. Even if he had an alibi, which would only be needed if Olivia kept digging and chose not to believe the murder-suicide, Yev’s alibi would either be Nick, or him. And he knew without a doubt that both he and Nick would do everything to keep Yev safe.

“She also found GSR on the wife’s hands, which proved she did fire the gun.”

Her evidence rambling pushed him from thoughts of Yev wielding a gun and shooting two people in cold blood. “The husband too?"”

Olivia nodded. “You good with all this Mick?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Good with what?”

“All this. It seems like the last pieces have fallen into place. Lloyd Lishman conspired with his wife, Candice, to murder Ian Gallagher. Then she shot her husband, then herself.”

Mickey clenched his teeth and nodded.

“It’s done. The only thing that’s left is the paper work."

Mickey looked up at her, only to see Lip Gallagher bursting through the doorway, raging. Pissed off. Blue eyes wide and tinted red. 

“You son of a bitch!!” Lip yelled and stalked towards him.

Mickey stood, moving away from his desk when Lip struck fast, punching him in the gut, making him double over as he fought to breathe. The entire bullpen, Olivia included, stood and made a move to grab Lip off him.

He held out his hand, making them stop, uncertain. Lip didn’t hit him again, but he held on and spoke low into his ear.

“Unless you want me to beat your ass in front of them, you better tell me how my brother is still alive.”

Mickey backed up; eyes wide. Lip looked furious. Murderous. He could feel the anger; the betrayal coiling off him. 

“Mick? You want me to lock his ass up?” Olivia asked and palmed her cuffs.

Mickey shook his head and stood upright and looked at Olivia. “No, chalk it up to a grieving brother. I’ll handle this.” He turned his attention back to Lip. “Follow me.” 

They walked into the break room and Mickey shut the door, blocking out the whispers and angry looks. Nothing pissed them off more than an outsider putting their hands on one of them.

He turned to Lip; eyes dead serious when he spoke. “You get one hit, and you just used it up. You step up again and I’ll fuckin shoot you.” Lip’s eyes widened. “Got it?”

“You deserved it, asshole.” Lip scuffed and started to pace. “You had no right to keep that shit to yourself.”

“I had no right?” He asked incredulously. “I didn’t ask for this Lip. The case or the shit that came after. I didn’t ask for Ian to lock onto me like that. I didn’t even know it was possible!”

“You could have told me!” Lip shouted back.

“Told you what, hmm? That your dead brother was a fucking ghost? That only I could see him?”

Lip looked away but remained silent.

Mickey gave a harsh laugh. “That’s what I fucking thought. I never thought that shit was real until I was chasing Ian down a hallway with his body 4 floors down in the morgue.”

When Lip didn’t say anything, Mickey turned away and started to pace and try to walk off his anger. Ian told him? Even after they said they needed to keep it to themselves for now? He would admit, that stung.

“How the fuck did you even find out?”

“I was at his apartment. Stupid fuckin manger needed the money to keep it. Next thing I know, Ian is standing in front of me.”

Ian left? He just walked out of his apartment where anyone could see him? “Look, this entire thing has been a big cluster fuck. I don’t know how he stayed here or why, only that I’m fucking grateful he did.”

“You really do love him, don’t you?” Lip asked softly, his eyes studying Mickey's entire body for the truth.

He didn’t hesitate to nod. Yes, it was fucking weird to love a dead guy, a semi dead guy. A man more that 10 years younger than he was. The big brother of his sons best friend. Ian Gallagher, bipolar go-go dancer with a jawline for days and a heart made of gold. A real treasure in the ugly world he was so familiar with. The only light in his endless darkness.

“Yes, I do.” Mickey answered honestly.

Lip seemed to relax a little at his confession and he wondered what had happened between him and Ian. Did Ian tell him everything? Did he tell him about their first words, or slowly moving closer together, did he tell them about the kiss they shared? Or the tears, the fear of losing each other, or Ian fading away? Did Lip know how completely they connected the first time they had sex? Each touch, each word bringing them closer together, sealing their fate?

“Where is he?” Mickey asked instead of all that shit floating in his mind.

“He packed a few things from his place and went back to your apartment. He said you are supposed to meet him.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or anyone else. I can’t really explain it or prove it to you.” He ignored the hurt he felt when Lip didn’t look at him. “We were trying to figure it all out and I was trying to protect him.”

Lip nodded and thumbed the corner of his eyes. “I know, he told me the same thing when I asked him. I get why you didn’t, why you couldn’t tell me. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

It hurt because they had grown close over the past month. They bonded over Ian’s death, as twisted as that sounded. He wouldn’t go as far as saying they were friends, but they might have been in another life, one where he never met Ian. They could have been something even under these circumstances, but his betrayal hung heavy between them and he was sure it was the and of the beginning.

“I’m sorry Lip,” Mickey deflated. Fuck, he was tired. “The cases are almost closed. Just some paperwork. I don’t know what that means for Ian, or how he can continue his life. I’ll leave it up to him.”

“And if he wants to come home? If he doesn’t want anything more to do with you, then what?”

The words cut like a knife. Swift and painful and deadly. Had Ian said that? Did he tell his brother that he wanted to go home, that he didn’t want him anymore now that he was free? Mickey wanted to say no, that his Ian would never do that. That this was Lip’s cruel attempt at payback for the lies. But it planted doubt in his mind, in his heart and that was just as bad, if not worse than if those words were actually true. 

Mickey took a deep breath and tried to keep the emotions from taking over. “If that’s what Ian wants, I won’t stop him.” Deep, deep breath. “I never told him to be with me. And if he was only with me because I was the only person that could see him, that could free him, then I understand, and I will back away and let him live how he wants.”

Mickey swallowed thickly and ignored the slight vibration in his pocket. He knew it was probably Ian. Was he wondering when he was coming back to talk? Or wanting to tell him that he was leaving? He wasn’t sure he could stomach one of those choices. 

“You’d let him go? Even after all this, all the shit you’ve done for him?” Lip asked quietly. 

Fuck. Don’t cry, don’t cry. He begged and begged for it. To remain strong under scrutiny. Ian didn’t love him. Ian didn’t want to be with him? The thoughts made his heart ache again, not in that sickly sweet way, but the impending heart attack way. 

“If that’s what Ian wants, I’d do it in a heart beat.” He spoke and had to put a hand across his heart. “It won’t change how I feel about him Lip, if that’s you’re trying to do. Not in the slightest.”

Lip looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“I won’t take credit for saving him. I solved his murder, I did my job and by some fuckin miracle, he came back. He’s alive, more or less.” Mickey felt his heart skip steadily and once again; his phone began to ring. “Even if he doesn’t love me like he says he does, it won’t change it for me. He saved me Lip, not the other way around and I’ll be damned if I apologize for falling in love with him.”

He knew Lip saw when the tears fell. The anger drained from his blue eyes and his jaw unclenched. As humiliating as it was to let anyone but Ian see him cry, there was no stopping it. They finally had everything they worked so hard for, Ian was alive, he was with him and Yev; like a family, the cases were closing so he was safe, and they’d found justice for him. And it felt like it was ending in an instant. Now it felt like he was losing Ian. That maybe Ian wasn’t as invested in them as he was. 

“I don’t pretend to know what to do with all this, or what Ian wants. I do know that he has a second chance and it needs to be his choice.”

Mickey tried to hide his flinch when Lip touched him. That once calming, familial touch had vanished. “It was always his choice Lip.”

Lip squeezed his shoulder. “Take care Mickey.”

It didn’t take long after Lip left for him to fall apart. He cried and screamed and punched the wall. Cursing Ian and life, cursing Lip and his icy words. He hated them so much because they were right. He didn’t belong in Ian’s world. If he had, they would have met before.

At the end of it all, he was left feeling like he had when Ian left. Alone and broken, questioning it all. He didn’t call Ian back; he didn’t offer an explanation as he grabbed his jacket and left. He didn’t hardly breathe the entire time it took to drive home. 

With shaky hands, he opened the door and was greeted with music, probably Ian’s since he'd never heard it before. He didn’t even have time to kick off his boots when Ian sauntered out of the kitchen, wearing only a white towel on his hips, fresh from the shower. 

“Hey baby, tried to call you.”

Ian sounded as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t meet Lip. What did he do? Yell, fight? Beg? It didn’t matter because the only thing he saw when he looked at Ian, was the scratches across his hips. Not from him.

“Mick?” Ian asked and turned to quiet the music. 

Mickey’s breath caught in his throat. There was a nasty, passionate looking bite mark on the left side of Ian’s neck, nearly on his shoulder blade. 

It became clear why Lip said all that shit about moving on. It seems that Ian already had….

“Baby, what is it?” Ian asked again and stepped up.

Mickey jerked away when Ian tried to hold his hand. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Ian’s eyes were wide, hurt. It made him sick. He turned without another look and left, left everything he wanted most in the world. Everything that made him happy. 

Someone else was making Ian happy now.


	24. We Have Problems

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 24-We Have Problems

(Ian’s POV)

Ian stood half naked in the living room, staring as the door silently closed. Mickey didn’t slam it like you would during a fight, he lightly closed it. Not good. What the fuck just happened? He came in, took a single glance at him, jerked away from his touch and left? What was he thinking right now?

“The fuck?” He whispered and stood stock still for half a second before he was out that same door. He left it wide open and ran as fast as he could. Mickey was just about to step out of the building when he grabbed the corner of his elbow and stopped him.

“Don’t fuckin touch me!” Mickey hissed and pulled away. 

Ian didn’t let go, even after all that shit with Zeppelin, being handled in a violent way, he wasn’t afraid of Mickey. “Yeah, fuck that shit. I can and I will touch you.”

Mickey pulled away again, trying to untangled Ian’s fingers. “No, you don’t get to fuckin touch me anymore. Looks like you get enough of that.” 

Ian had no idea what the hell he was talking about. That shit didn’t even make sense. He literally couldn’t be seen by anyone other than Mickey up until recently. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ian took both of Mickey’s wrists and held them against his chest.

Mickey scuffed. “Nice try, you think I don’t see that shit?”

“What shit?!” Ian barked, feeling a little crazed. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t do anything.

“You’re covered in scratches asshole, not to mention someone took a hunk from your shoulder.”

Ian narrowed his eyes in confusion. Scratches, bite marks? He was about to tell Mickey to stop being ridiculous until he saw that look in his eyes. Sadness. He was so sad he was angry. All because of him? Or something he did or didn’t do?

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He watched Mickey’s eyes drift to his stomach and was surprised so see that there were scratches there. He let go of Mickey, thankful he didn’t bolt away, and lightly ran his fingers over them. What the fuck is that?”

“Why don’t you tell me, hmm?” Mickey scratched his nose in annoyance. “First, you fuckin leave and don’t tell me, then you tell Lip, who is a fucking asshole by the way. Why I thought we might actually be friends, I’ll never know. Then, I come home, and you’re covered in someone else’s sex shit.”

It took a minute to click which part Mickey was really referring to. He knew it was a mistake to leave and not tell him. It was also a mistake to tell Lip without talking to him. Not that he needed permission, but because they were in this shit together. Now Mickey was accusing him of what?....

“If I didn’t love your stupid ass so much, I’d fuckin punch your stupid, adorable, asshole face.” Ian huffed and couldn’t believe what Mickey was saying. “Yes, I should have waited to leave or told you but shit with Yev freaked me out and I needed some space and wanted to see my place. Grab a few things.”

Mickey shifted from foot to foot, unable to look at him but at least he was listening.

“And yes, I should have stuck to the plan and waited to tell anyone. Lip was there when I showed up and he was going to kill himself.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

Ian nodded. “He didn’t, not because of me but because he is better than that. I went to leave, and Lip was headed to the door. He didn’t even see me Mick.”

“What’s that mean, he didn’t see you.? How the hell couldn’t he?” 

“No fucking clue. I know people saw me when I was out,” Mickey huffed, and Ian rolled his eyes and leaned against the other side of the hallway. “Relax, they didn’t recognize me, and I know my fuckin way around without being seen. But people bumped into me and smiled and shit so I know they could see me before I got there.”

Mickey deflated a little after hearing he had been careful. “But Lip couldn’t?”

“No, he stood at my feet and didn’t budge. It wasn’t until I started bitchin out the damn universe that he saw me. Don’t ask me why, but it didn’t help, got a damn punch in the face.”

Mickey chuckled, earning a glare from Ian. “He split your lip?”

Ian shook his head. “No, I was gonna tell you about that but you fuckin bolted like an asshole. Do you really think, that after all the shit we have been through, all the shit I went through to stay with you, and just go fuck someone else the second you leave me alone?”

Ian watched Mickey shift again, unable to meet his eyes. There may have been a little guilt there but more than anything there was doubt. Mickey doubted what they had? 

“Wow, really?” Ian’s voice was low, watery. “Just like that huh? I’m alive again and you think I just wanna fuck some random?”

“I didn’t fuckin say that.” Mickey shot back.

“You didn’t say shit! I don’t know how the fuck those scratches got there, or when and I damn sure don’t know how I got a busted lip. It just showed up about 15 minutes after Yev left.”

Mickey walked outside and lit a smoke, knowing Ian would follow him. And he did. “It’s on your back to, FYI. Not scratches but a big ass bite mark that I know aint from me.”

Ian stayed under the overhang of the doorway. The cold air hitting his half naked self brutally. “I can’t exactly see my back but again, I didn’t fuckin have anything to do with that.”

“Shit doesn’t just appear like that Ian. After the fuckin day I’ve had,” he shook his head. “Last thing I need is to try this hard for someone who doesn’t want me.”

Ian took a step back like he’d been slapped across the face. His back hit the door, the bar digging into his spine and he didn’t feel any of it. “You don’t think I want you?” he asks quietly, trying not to fucking cry. 

Mickey looked back and saw Ian shivering. As pissed and hurt as he was, he couldn’t just stand there. He shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to Ian.

Ian waited a moment, unwilling to look into his eyes but grabbed the warm jacket and shivered at the smell around the collar. Mickey’s smell. That warmed him in ways no clothing ever could.

“And I don’t know if you want me Ian. Not after Lip…” He growled, still angry. “Never mind, just forget it.”

Ian stood there with his mouth twisted into a snarl, one that might have resembled a bull. By the look on Mickey’s face, that afraid, apprehensive look, he knew how pissed off he was. “What the fuck did he say to you?”

Mickey took a drag on his cigarette and couldn’t meet his eyes. “He didn’t say shit that I didn’t already figure out for myself.”

Ian grabbed Mickey by both arms and pushed him hard against the wall. The cigarette fell from his lips and landed on his bare foot. Ian didn’t feel it at all or the cold mushy snow under his feet. “What the fuck did he say Mickey?”

Mickey sighed, unwilling to put up any kind of fight. Not with Ian. “He said that this was your second chance…”

Ian nodded, that was true. This was his second chance. But that wouldn’t place doubt between them. “And?”

“And he said what happens if you want to go back home and take that second chance without me.”

Ian just blinked. He couldn’t imagine hearing anything as awful as that. Lip had a bad habit of runnin his damn mouth about shit he knew nothing about. The worst part, as that he got into Mickey’s head. He made him believe that he would get left behind. No wonder Mickey took one look at those scratches and fuckin freaked out.

Ian tightened his grip on Mickey’s shoulders and sad, teary blue eyes looked up at him. “I am going to strangle his sloth-lookin ass as soon as I see him. That motherfucker.” 

“Just forget it. I-I didn’t think it would affect me so damn much,” Mickey stuttered his way past his painful heartbeat and tried not to let it get to him. “He just made it sound like you told him you didn’t want me or that you made your decision.”

Ian gasped at the pain that flooded his heart. Making it race and pulse with pain, with heartbreak. He let go of Mickey’s arms and cupped his face, but he was looking down again, biting his lip.

“Baby, look at me.” Ian spoke softly as his thumbs caressed cold cheeks. Mickey glanced up, tears making his eyes look sapphire bright. “I don’t know why he said that, but he is full of shit. We didn’t even talk about me going home. He said he missed me and thought I faked my death, then I left.”

Mickey scuffed, trying to come off as annoyed but Ian knew better. “Ya know, I think this shit hurts like ten times worse cuz I really thought he liked me.”

Ian leaned down to let their heads rest together. “I can’t speak for him, mostly because stupid shit comes out of his mouth. But Mickey, baby, please don’t believe a word he says.” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on his mouth. “I have never loved someone the way I love you. I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you.”

Mickey’s chin trembled and one of those annoying tears slid down his face and Ian was there to brush it away. 

“I may have a second chance, and as much as I want my family, I want you so much more. You are my second chance baby. I wouldn’t want to be here if I didn’t have you.” 

Mickey closed his eyes and his body shook as he forced himself to keep all those tears in. “You really want that with me?”

Ian nodded fast, feeling his tears start to fall. “I only want it with you Mick. You’re it for me baby. Us meeting like that, unable to be together, loving and fighting and death and pain, that’s fucking love Mick.”

Mickey smiled at how serious he sounded.

“That’s like the stars-will-align type shit, the universe is a fucking cunt, but it gave us a damn chance.” Ian smiled and traced Mickey’s smile with his thumbs. “There is no me without you, remember that? You said that to me and if you were lying, I’m gonna kick your sexy ass all over this parking lot.”

“I fucking meant it.” Mickey put his cold hands to Ian’s sides and pulled him closer. “You’re it for me too.”

Ian shivered from that incredible feeling that only came from his Mickey. The kiss that came was more needed then wanted. It was almost like their first kiss. Uncertain, a little shy. Ian gasped at the feel of his soft, tear stained lips and Mickey’s fingers digging into his sides to bring him closer.

“I love you so much baby,” Ian spoke quickly between kisses and each of Mickey’s responding groans let him know he knew that again, still. 

“Forever right?” Mickey asked when Ian pulled back. He gripped Ian’s lower back, digging his nails in to make a few of his own marks. “I don’t think I can take it if it’s not forever.”

Ian moved Mickey’s hand until it laid flat against his heart, then slid his own up Mickey’s shirt to do the same. Their heart beat fast and loud enough for them to hear. “I told you nothing could make me leave, not even being torn away from you for all those days.” He kissed Mickey’s cheeks, then his nose, his stubbly chin, over both eccentric eyebrows. “Even then, I came back for you baby.”

“If shit was reversed,” he licked his lips, trying to get it all out the right way, “if it was me instead of you, I’d pick you over anyone, every single time.” 

“I know Mick.” Ian leaned down to kiss him again and it felt like their last kiss. Passionate and meaningful. He licked into Mickey’s mouth, tingling at the way he groaned and accepted him inside. Mickey kept him close, meeting each kiss with equal enthusiasm. 

“I’m sorry, for not listening or asking. For leaving.” He looked down and touched the scrapes over Ian’s lower stomach. It just felt like smooth skin. “I just don’t wanna think about you that way with anyone but me.”

Ian looked down at Mickey’s fingers tracing the marks. “I don’t want anyone but you like that. I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me baby.”

Mickey believed him. He hadn’t when Lip was running his mouth, but he did for sure right now. “What is it then?”

Ian shook his head, ignoring the numbness in his bare feet. “I don’t know. It wasn’t there when I got in the shower.”

Mickey noticed. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Ian smiled and took his offered hand and followed Mickey back into the apartment. Mickey left him in the living room and Ian quickly darted into the bathroom and turned to look at his shoulder and sure enough there was a full bite mark. 

“What the fuck?” He touched it gently and found that it was a little tender but there were no indentions from the teeth. It was all smooth.

“Freaky, right?” Mickey asked from the doorway.

Ian looked away from the mirror to see pair of boxers and socks in his hands. “It doesn’t feel like anything. It’s a little sore but I don’t know how I got it.”

Mickey chose not to say the smart ass answer because Ian wouldn’t do him dirty like that. “You said your lip just split out of the blue too?”

Ian nodded and grabbed the boxers, easily slipping them on without dropping the towel. “Yev left, I grabbed a beer and there was blood on the rim.” The towel dropped and he quickly dried his frozen feet and slipped the socks on. “Almost like I took an elbow to the face, but I didn’t leave til after Yev did.”

Mickey thumbed his lip and turned away from Ian in only a pair of his tight boxers and moved back to the living room. “Before, you said something happened with Yev?”

Ian cursed silently. He knew Mickey wanted to talk about Yev but the last thing he wanted to do was say too much. “Yeah, we were talkin about some shit. Mostly him and Nick. I asked how that shit was going.”

Mickey nodded and took a seat. “And that freaked you out?”

Ian stayed standing. “Not really. It was easy going shit. But I mentioned that him and Nick were a little like you and I,” he smiled when Mickey quirked an eyebrow. “Just that we know what it’s like for the world to keep you apart and not being able to tell anyone how happy you are.”

When Mickey didn’t comment, Ian continued. “I’m not sure what lead to it exactly, but Yev kinda got…uh, aroused, is the best word I think.”

“You wanna run that by me again?” Mickey asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, like I said, it kinda freaked me out. Him too. Nothin we talked about was sexual, not even a little bit but he acted like he was suddenly watchin porn. His entire body reacted, to nothing.”

Mickey opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Uh, I have no idea what to fuckin say right now.”

Ian chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, join the club. He said he didn’t know why he felt that way or what exactly he was feeling. He mentioned something about seeing shit in his mind, like memories or pictures.”

“Well, that’s a little concerning. Seeing shit.” Mickey shook his head.

“Don’t be so closed minded Mick. Something is goin on and if that’s what it felt like or seemed like then I’m gonna believe him.”

“Ease up tiger,” Mickey smiled. “I’m not saying I don’t believe him. It’s just a little odd to hear shit like this.”

“It ain’t exactly easy for me either Mick. I have no idea what to say to a 16 year old. Especially not about weird, sexual feelings over nothing.” He let out a tired breath. “He mentioned scars and tattoos before he really freaked out. His eyes got ten times as wide and he looked a little green.”

“Scars and tattoos?” Mickey asked, trying to think of the first thing that popped into his mind. “And he just left?”

Ian nodded. “He said it wasn’t a big deal and took off like a bat outta hell. Next thing I know, I’m takin a drink and my lip is split.”

“That’s super fuckin weird.” Mickey groaned and rubbed over his face. “Did you call him after?”

“Yeah, a few times but he didn’t answer. I told him you were meetin me back here to talk,” they both shared a knowing look. “So, he went to Nick’s.”

“He spends too much time there.” Mickey scuffed. “Way too much fuckin time.”

“Come on Mick, that’s hardly the point here.” Ian took a seat at the end of the couch. As serious as this conversation was, the only thing he wanted to do was show Mickey how much he loved him. Sitting too close wouldn’t help. “I know you don’t like it, I don’t even like it. But what choice is there, huh? Fight with him about it, piss you both off, for what? For him to do it anyways?”

“It’s the right thing to do. As a damn parent, I’m not supposed to be okay with this. I’m supposed to keep them away from each other.”

“Really? You gonna stay by his side every minute of every day to make sure that happens?” Ian lowered his voice. “Baby, I don’t want to fight about this and really, I have no say whatsoever. He’s your son. You gotta do what you want.”

“I want to pull my Glock and shoot him right in his stupid face.” Mickey huffed, expelling all that anger in one sentence. “But I don’t want him to sneak around and lie to me. I don’t want him to hate me.”

Ian moved closer, sidling up next to him and put a hand on his leg. “I know Mick. But I’m not sure you can have both. But I’m probably not the best one to take advice from on this. I don’t know shit about kids or normal relationships.”

Mickey glanced at him and chuckled. “Both of those things are impossible to figure out.”

Ian smiled back at him. “Have you talked to his mom about all this?”

“We don’t talk very much, mutual decision. I can’t really see her running to help any time soon. She doesn’t see the age gap as a problem.” He rubbed a hand over his face, trying not to be so negative, but he was at the end of his rope.

“I don’t think I ever saw it as a problem.” Ian looked away, feeling all those bad relationship choices creeping up on him. 

Mickey saw the hurt on Ian’s face instantly and it was because of what he said. “Shit, I didn’t mean…Fuck.” He took a deep breath and tried again. “If he was older I don’t think I’d mind so much. Obviously you’re younger…” he smiled when Ian did. “But you’re legal, an adult and he’s only 16.”

Ian smiled and finally moved from his side of the couch, to sit on the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t gotta be sorry Mick. I know better than you what I’ve done. As for Yev, I think it might be a bit different then what I was doing. I didn’t love any of them.”

Mickey smiled, getting mildly distracted by that sweet smile and what he was saying, but not that distracted. “But he’s 16. A lot of shit changes or will change soon for him. I don’t want him to give all of himself away like that just to change his mind later.” 

Ian leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs and took Mickey’s tattooed hands in his, lightly tracing the fading words. “Baby, he won’t change his mind. Other things might get in the way of them; life, college, Nick’s job. But he will always love him.”

It hurt so much because he knew Ian was right. First loves were with you forever, he kept his locked away where not even the brightest light would touch it. He knew Ian had one as well, and now Yev. It didn’t matter if the relationship lasted, or if it was or wasn’t strong enough. No matter what happened, it would stay with you. 

“You know, you could always ask him.” Ian smiled when Mickey glared at him. “I know you’d rather it not be Nick, but he is your son and I’m sure he is going through some major shit right now. With us and me being back, and I do know that he wishes you didn’t hate it.”

Mickey felt his heart clench again. Stupid emotions. He could front all he wanted, lie about not caring. The issue was, he cared too much. “Did he say that?” He asked through clenched teeth.

Ian nodded. “He found something great, he found love and happiness, but he can’t tell anyone.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Sound familiar?”

Mickey nodded. It sounded like them. Ian said Yev and Nick were just like them and he was right.

“He’s never felt any of that shit before, so I imagine he’s scared. He’s never been with another guy aside from Nick, so that’s new as well. Not to mention he has to hide it all away, even from you. Especially from you.”

Mickey squeezed Ian’s hands and pulled him forward until Ian moved off the table and straddled his lap. “I don’t think I can talk to him about it.” He pushed their heads together and linked his fingers behind Ian’s back.

Ian smiled as he kissed Mickey’s lips quickly. “He doesn’t want to talk about sex Mick. Or if he does, it won’t be in graphic detail. He just wants to share his happiness with the only person he’s got.”

The sex talk thing made him cringe. “So, what? Just talk to him?” he asked as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Just talk to him. You might be surprised at what he has to say.” Ian ran his hands through Mickey’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “And if the sex stuff is too much, he can ask me, and it won’t be so weird.”

“I don’t know, considering you told me that my son popped a boner in front of my boyfriend…that kinda seems weird, yeah?”

Ian frowned. “Yeah, I guess that’s pretty fuckin weird, but it wasn’t towards me or anything like that.”

Even if he didn’t talk to Yev about this Nick thing, he damn sure needed to talk to him about what happened with Ian. Ian said Yev was acting weird, freaked out and whatever it was, was enough to bother Ian. He needed to get to the bottom of what actually happened and try to work it all out.

Mickey held Ian’s thigh with one hand and shifted a little to tuck his other hand into his pants for his phone. It took a little wiggling and slight gasping from both of them, heated looks of things to come because of it, but he got it out as Ian settled back on his lap and called Yev. It rang four or five times and just in that time, Ian’s hands had moved from his hands, up his arms, squeezing the muscles there before going up to his shoulders 

It rang six or seven times.

Mickey pulled the phone away from his mouth as he spoke, just in case Yev happened to answer. “Are you really getting handsy with me right now Ian?” he tried to cover his smirk by biting his lip.

Ian nodded and moved them down the front of his chest, his thumbs pausing long enough to rub his nipples through his shirt until they pebbled under his touch. 

On the eighth ring, the voicemail kicked on and he was positively groaning as Ian teased him. He cleared his throat of all the lust, just in time to leave his message and hope it didn’t sound as sexed out as he felt.

“Hey Yevy, it’s dad. Just gimme a call when you can. It’s important. Love you.”

Mickey mumbled his way through the message, glaring at Ian and arching up into his touch at the same time. He tossed the phone aside and wrapped both of his arms around Ian’s back, squeezing tight until he gasped. “Such an asshole.”

Ian chuckled and wrapped his arms around his neck just as he rocked his body down, grinding against him. “Just trying to keep you in a good mood for that talk, baby. Don’t need you biting his head off.”

Mickey groaned and slid his hands up Ian’s bare back, digging his nails in on the way down until he arched against his mouth. He left his tongue slip out to leave wet kisses over his chest. “I’m always in a good fuckin mood.” He groaned when Ian’s dick pushed against his stomach, begging for attention. “Got me all sexed up on the phone?”

Ian nodded, his head resting on the top of Mickey’s. His body was being pulled in too many directions; with Mickey’s mouth on his chest and his nails in his back, his dick up against his ass, he was just as sexed up. 

“I like when you’re all sexed up for me Mick,” he whispered into his ear before it bit it, drawing a well-earned hiss in return. “You get all demanding and shit.”

Mickey pulled against Ian’s nipple, making him lean in further as he groaned. “Pushy little bottom, right?” he chuckled when Ian’s groan got louder.

“Fuck yeah, my power bottom.” Ian moved back, both hands fisted in dark hair as he pulled his head back to look up at him. “You know you love it.”

Mickey pushed his hands into Ian’s boxers and squeezed his ass hard enough to make him grind forward, expelling a deep groan of approval. “I think you love it. You like when I get all pushy?” Ian nodded as he squeezed again, closing his eyes. “And you always give me what I want.”

“What do you want now Mick?” Ian asked as he quickly undid every button on Mickey’s shirt and peeled it back off his shoulders. His chest look exceptionally large like this, with the shirt caught around his elbows. “Tell me how you want it.”

Mickey gripped the band of his boxers and pulled them below his ass and gave it a rough slap. “I think I’m gonna need it rough this time.” He looked down to see those scratches on Ian’s hips and felt his body heat with anger. “I need to leave my own marks on you.”

Ian nodded in total understanding. “I need your marks all over me baby.” He leaned back, nearly resting his back against Mickey’s thighs as he kept tattooed hands on his lower back; keeping him in place, and Mickey drove for his chest. Biting and sucking and nipping every inch of his skin. “That’s it baby, do it as hard as you want.”

Mickey left a full imprint of his teeth on Ian’s left side, then just under his right nipple. The more marks he left, the better he felt, and the deeper Ian groaned. “Gotta have more on you.”

Ian nodded, covered in sweat, shaking with need as he licked his lips. “Then we need more room.”

Mickey couldn’t agree more. He tucked both arms under Ian’s thighs and ass and lifted them up off the couch. He could see the flicker of surprise run across his face in the form of a sexy smirk before he locked those long ass legs around him and moved to his neck. Leaving his own marks. 

“Fuck,” Mickey groaned and pushed him up against the wall in the hallway and dug his nails into his thighs. “This might get bloody.”

Ian smirked. “South Side baby, I’m used to bloody.”

Mickey groaned as they kissed, pushing their tongues together in urgent demand, in competition as he walked them the rest of the way into their room. He kicked the door closed and stumbled around clothes and shoes until he turned and let them fall to the bed, with Ian under him. 

“It’s sexy as hell that you can handle me like that.” He moaned and sat up enough to peel Mickey’s shirt the rest of the way off, kissing along his buff chest. “Never had anyone do that before.”

Mickey closed his eyes, happy to be the first. It wasn’t like he was the first to be with Ian but at least he was that first. He needed it to chase away the thoughts of someone else touching Ian, even though he swore no one had. Ian kissed up his chest, licking his nipples until pleasure zinged up his spine. Both of his arms were braced on either side of Ian’s body, so Ian had to crane his neck up to get at him, and he did. Eagerly. 

“You gonna ride me Mick?” Ian asked as he laid back, moving his hands to Mickey’s pants, popping the button but didn’t touch his gun belt. 

“I might.” He smirked and sat back on his heels and careful unbuckled his belt, gun and all and dropped them to the floor beside the bed. “Or, I might need you to show me just how much you want me.”

Ian sat up ripping both sides of Mickey’s zipper hard, making his body jolt, until it slid apart and he was able to see him hard and pressed against his boxers. “You need me to show you?”

Mickey wanted to say no, but from this angle higher up, he could see the top set of teeth marks on Ian’s shoulder. He clenched his teeth, so he didn’t say anything, but Ian saw it. So, he just nodded and tried not to ruin it.

“I can do that baby,” Ian rubbed his face along Mickey’s stomach, biting on the hard muscles and soft skin. “Let me show you.”

Mickey groaned as Ian motioned for him to get on his knees. Then he kissed from his chest down, licking his skin before sucking on it, then a light hip before it was kissed once more. Each time had his eyes closing, pushing his hands into Ian’s hair to lead him further down. Long fingers dipped into the band of his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough for his dick to slip out. One hand instantly curled around it, slowly jerking him.

“Shit,” he gasped, hands still in his hair as he kissed across his hips. “You’re so close to where I need you.” His eyes opened and saw Ian looking up at him. Green eyes dark and lidded as his tongue curled around the head of his dick. “Fuck baby, right there.”

Ian let out a deep, desperate sounding groan because of it and sucked the head into his mouth as his hands worked his ass, squeezing hard before his fingertips danced along his crack. 

“That’s it,” he helped Ian slowly slide down his length, feeling goosebumps rise when Ian groaned. “You gotta open me up.”

Ian pulled off him, grinning at the trail of saliva leading from his mouth to his dick. “How many you need this time?”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s right hand, not answering as he sucked two long fingers into his mouth. Ian gasped and his other hand squeezed tighter on his ass. He swirled his tongue all long his fingers, sliding it in between them until he pulled them out dripping wet. 

“Just two.” He leaned down to kiss the shocked look off Ian’s face. He licked across his bottom lip, nipping it as he pulled back. “Wanna feel all of you.”

Ian growled and pushed his wet fingers between his cheeks, teasing the rim until blue eyes fluttered closed. “With only two, you’re gonna feel it all baby. I know you can handle it.” He smirked at Mickey’s face when he pushed them both in at the same time. “Can’t you?”

Mickey groaned and spread his legs wider, feeling the heat pool in his stomach each time Ian pushed them in deeper. “Fuck yeah, I can take it real good.”

Ian moved up to his knees, enabling him to push his fingers in deeper, to scissor them as he groaned against his lips. “The best baby. It still surprises me how good you take me.” He licked against his bottom lip when be groaned. “As deep and hard as I need it, as we need it, and you always ask for more.”

Mickey roughly peeled Ian’s boxers down and eagerly gripped his dick, giving long, fast strokes. The other hand moved to roll his balls, getting him amped up to take him how he needed it. “I always beg for more, I don’t ask. I demand more.”

Ian slid his fingers out, ignoring Mickey’s whine of protest, gripped both hips and flipped him around until his back hit the bed and he knelt in front of him. “You gonna beg this time, or demand?” 

Mickey kicked off his pants and boxers and spread his legs as wide as he could, both feet planted on the bed and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. Ian’s eyes widened until he could barely see the whites in his eyes. “Please fuck me Ian,” he groaned and avoided his dick, running his fingers all around it, “I need it so fucking bad.” 

“Oh God,” Ian groaned and grabbed the base of his dick. Mickey decided to beg for it. 

It was getting Ian to that point, that desperate, all consuming, unable to think, feeling he needed. His hands moved up his body, nails scraping across his hips, then up to his chest. He groaned deeply when he scraped a nipple and Ian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ll be good,” he whined as both hands moved up to circle his neck, making Ian’s legs shake, “I’ll be so good for you.”

“Baby,” his voice came out feeling like sandpaper. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly. “You keep it up, you’re gonna make me come before I get inside you.” 

Mickey moaned, arching his back and let one hand slip to the head of his dick, slowly gathering the wetness on his fingers before he sucked them onto his mouth. Ian growled. “Please don’t,” he moved his hand back down, moaning as he gripped his dick, slowly stroking as Ian started to lean forward, “I need you to come in me Ian. Gotta fill me up, so you can eat it out.”

That was the nail in the coffin.

Ian lunged at him, completely covering his body with his own. He took his mouth in a deep, messy kiss as he pushed between his legs, pushing their dicks together. Mickey clawed at him, digging his nails into his sides, his ass and his thighs, leaving painfully incredible red marks. 

“You better be ready.” Ian growled as he broke the kiss, grabbed the lube off the side table, pressed the opening to Mickey’s hole and squeezed until it dripped out of him.

“Fuck yeah, give it to me.” Mickey growled back, gripping him behind the neck to kiss him once more. 

Ian moved him to his side, making him fold his legs up to his chest and got as close as possible. The angle caused their kiss to break and Mickey gripped the sheets as Ian gripped his hips and rubbed the head of his dick against him. 

“You okay like this?” He asked, barely lucid enough to ask. Mickey’s hole kept clenching for him, eager to take him in.

Mickey nodded, curled onto his side, legs drawn up to his chest with lube leaking out of his hole. “Get on me.”

Ian didn’t hesitate. He pushed in, slowly inching into him with a death grip on his hip and one thigh. Mickey groaned, his head pressed into the sheets as Ian’s mouth moved all over him; kissing up his side, then his shoulder and neck. Totally unable to keep his mouth off him as he pushed in.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Ian groaned and let his head rest against Mickey’s arm. He pulled out, watching the access come slick him up further and pushed back in. “Two was not enough.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. But don’t stop.” He moved one arm to grab Ian’s lower back and urge him on. “I won’t break, don’t hold back.” 

Ian grinned, proud of his baby, moved one hand to grip Mickey’s shoulder and bottomed out with a deep thrust. He sagged against his body, out of breath and ready to come. “Fuck, yes.”

Mickey took a deep breath, feeling Ian up in his stomach. Ian was shaking against him, panting against his temple. Sweat from Ian’s hair dripped onto him, soaking into his skin. “Love me baby,” Mickey turned his head and kissed him. “Love me.”

Ian kissed him as he pushed inside, inhaling both of their groans. He swept his tongue inside for a taste, groaning when Mickey tried to suck on it. Gasping when he pushed back in, over and over again at a deep, steady pace.

Mickey held on where he could from that position, one hand on Ian’s ass, the other around the back of his neck. Each thrust pushed in deeper, harder until the sound of Ian’s balls smacking against his ass filled his ears. He broke the kiss when he tasted blood, seeing Ian’s split lip reopened.

“You need to stop?” Mickey groaned between each thrust. 

Ian shook his head and licked the blood away. “Never gonna stop. Fuck, I need to be in you all the time baby.” He leaned up on his knees, pushing Mickey’s thigh up higher and leaned his head back to see each time he pushed inside. 

“Need it harder, please.” He whined and closed his eyes. His head was so heavy it rested against the bed, smelling them all over the sheets. “More Ian, please.”

Ian growled and dug his nails into Mickey’s back, dodging the scars, scratching red lines down over his ass before he gave it a hard slap. He slowed, breathing hard. “Turn for me, on your stomach.”

Mickey felt like it took ages to turn over. He gripped the bed for help and finally spread his legs wide as Ian slipped back into him. “Hands and knees?”

Ian shook his head, put one hand flat against his lower back and pushed him down as he drew back his hips and slammed into him. “Fuck, just like this. Just lift your hips and take it like a good boy.”

“Fuck, fuck…” Mickey groaned at the words and pushed his dick against the bed before he lifted his hips. The angle was perfect, so each time Ian thrusted into him, he would push against his prostate. “That’s the spot, fuck.”

Ian moved one leg up, planting his foot flat on the bed and tilted his hips, getting even deeper. “Right there?”

Mickey nodded and grabbed the bed, trying to pull himself away without thinking because the stimulation was too great. “You keep doing that and I’m gonna fucking come.” He warned when Ian gripped his shoulder and held him in place.

Ian barely heard him as his eyes were locked downwards, watching Mickey’s incredible ass take every single, brutal thrust. Hitting it so hard, so deep, that his balls smacked against him with a loud slap. His dick glistened with every push and pull, hitting that spot just perfectly. His hands hand two full handfuls of ass, squeezing him tight, pulling him back for more. 

“Come here,” Mickey groaned and reached back for him. “I want your mouth on me when I come.”

Ian feel forward, covering Mickey’s entire back with his body. His head moved into his neck, biting and sucking as his hips kept up the punishing pace. “I feel it baby, I’m gonna fill you up.”

Mickey groaned and pushed his arm back, holding onto the back of Ian’s neck before his fingers slipped into his hair and gripped it hard. “I want it baby,” he shuddered when Ian growled in his ear, “I need it.”

Mickey felt the moment they weren’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear a door shut or any footsteps, but he could feel it. But there was no stopping and he hated the fact that Yev would hear them. 

“Yev is here.” He groaned against the bed, trying to muffle his obscene moaning. “We should stop.” But even as he said it, he pushed back, doing his best to fuck Ian back. 

“I can’t baby,” Ian whimpered when someone knocked on the door. “Fuck, just a little more.”

Mickey nodded, trying to hold out but he knew he didn’t have long.

“Dad.” Yev called through the door as he knocked again, louder this time. “I need to talk to you two.”

“Mick, Mick…” Ian closed his eyes, tipping over that ledge each time Mickey fisted his hair.

Yev knocked again. “Dad!!”

“J-just a minute!” he groaned. “Now, right now…”

Ian started chuckling, not a happy sound but more of an exasperated sound for no reason at all. 

“The fuck you laughin for?” Mickey snapped, mad that his orgasm temporarily retreated.

Ian shook his head, growling once again when Mickey gripped his hair tighter. “Come for me baby, fuck. You gotta come.” He begged.

“Dad!!”

A new wave washed over him and there was no stopping it this time. “Oh God, fuck Ian. Shit, right now!”

Ian nodded and went faster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he growled into his ear.

Mickey came so hard he nearly pushed them off the bed to make room to come. Ian coming just as he was, only added to it. “God!” he pushed his hips against the bed, chasing each mind blowing aftershock as Ian did the same, slowly pumping into him. 

“God baby,” Ian buried his face into Mickey’s sweaty hair and felt his entire body sag against him. 

Mickey laughed, absorbing the weight with ease. He was about to close his eyes when the knocking got louder. Shit, Yev was there. He blushed and knew Yev wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Fucking Christ dad, let go of his damn hair. You’re giving me a headache.”

He swore the entire world stopped moving. Ian rolled off him none too gracefully and he could see the clear shock on his face. “What the fuck?”

“Seriously dad, hair pulling?” Yev grumbled through the door. “Get out here. We gotta talk.”

Mickey sat up, quickly wiping himself down with his shirt and pulled on a pair of sweats. “How the fuck did he know?”

Ian shook his head, eyes wide as he dressed also. “I have no idea Mick, but it’s fucking weird.”

Mickey didn’t wait for Ian to join him before he unlocked the door and moved to find Yev pacing in the kitchen. The second their eyes met, they both shared the same blush and looked away. And then he noticed it, a split in Yev’s lip, just like Ian’s.

“What the fuck is going on?” he barked just as Ian walked in, making him jump.

“Baby, what is it…?” Ian’s sentence trailed off as he saw Yev’s lip as well, split just in the same spot his was. 

Yev rubbed his hands into his hair, unable to stop touching it. “We have a big fucking problem.”


	25. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yev lays everything on the table about why him and Ian are so connected...

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 25- Coming Clean

It could have been seconds that passed, or minutes, hours, days, weeks even…in silence. Mickey was having a hard time trying to figure out why they hadn’t moved or said one single word to each other. It was a comfort that Ian looked just as shocked and confused as he was. At least it wasn’t blatantly obvious what was happening, at least Ian was with him in the dark. 

Yev on the other hand looked like he wanted to turn and run as far away from them as possible. He looked like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he looked a bit paler than his usual tight tone. The shirt he wore was far too big on him; probably Nick’s, and it looked like it would swallow him down. Yev didn’t make eye contact, he held his bottom lip between his teeth, and he shuffled from foot to foot as if he couldn’t bear to be there. 

Yev was so nervous he was scared. 

But what really stood out, the one thing he could not understand, not for anything, was why Yev had the same split lip that Ian did. In the same spot, the same wound. Like someone copied and pasted it against the other. 

Mickey took a second to take a deep breath, the last thing he wanted to do was make it all worse, but he needed answers. “Is that what you needed to talk about?” he motioned to their lips, trying not to demand answers.

Yev nodded, eyes cast to the ground. 

Mickey took a look at Ian who was just staring at Yev. He touched Ian’s arm and he jumped before looking at him. “You okay?”

Ian shook his head. “No, I’m freaked the fuck out right now.”

Mickey turned back to Yev. “What the hell is going on Yev? Why do you and Ian have the same split lip?” He asked in a rush. The words sounded ridiculous and freaky.

Yev didn’t answer the question but looked to Ian instead. “You remember what we talked about? The shit that I couldn’t tell anyone about?” He pleaded that he understood what that vague question asked.

Ian’s eyes widened a little. “I remember Yev. But what does that have to do with this?”

Mickey looked back and forth between them. They were keeping something from him. Both of them. But why? Whatever it was, they didn’t even want to say the words in front of him. What did they have to talk about that they didn’t think he would handle?

His eyes widened as anger spread through his body. There was only one thing that Yev and Ian had to talk about that didn’t include him. Mickey stepped forward and grabbed Yev’s shoulder. “Nick did this to you?”

Yev scuffed and jerked away from him. “Of course he didn’t do this dad. Are you kidding me right now?”

Mickey shook his head. “Does it look like I’m kidding? You and Ian have a damn secret that I can’t know about. The only thing I don’t to hear about his that asshole and you show up with a busted mouth?”

The idea that Nick had touched Yev in any way made him want to scream. But as much as he hated their relationship, that was different then Yev showing up with a split lip. It looked like someone backhanded him. 

Yev groaned and rubbed over his face. “For one; Nick would never do that dad, never and fuck you for thinking it was him. For two; even if that was the case, which it’s not, that doesn’t explain Ian’s lip.”

Mickey stepped back when Ian’s hand rested on his shoulder. That made sense, kind of. Not why they had the same mark but even if Nick had signed his death warrant and let a mark on his son, that did not explain why Ian had one. The same one.

“Yev, if you have to tell him in order to explain this shit, then please do.” He gripped Mickey’s shoulder and brought him closer. “We have had one fuck of a night and can’t deal with any misinterpretations.”

Yev nodded and the anger he felt about Nick melted away because he had to say something. He could feel bile rising up in his throat at the idea of telling him. It made him want to say fuck it and chalk the split lip up to a freak accident. But that didn’t explain why he was feeling Ian’s passion and love for his dad. There was no way he could live with that. 

“Before I tell you about the lip stuff, I need to tell you something else.” His voice shook already, and he hadn’t even started.

Mickey turned to Ian. “You know what he is about to tell me?”

Ian nodded and offered Yev a sympathetic smile. This was going to be rough. “I do know. He told me when it all happened.”

Mickey jerked away, glaring but Ian didn’t let go. “And you kept it from me? It has to deal with my son, and you didn’t tell me?”

Ian glared right back. “I promised him I wouldn’t unless you asked me. You didn’t ask me, so I didn’t say anything.”

Mickey wanted to say it was betrayal, but it didn’t feel like that. Maybe the reason he was so upset was because he had a feeling of what Yev was about to say. The same thing he needed to talk to Ian about just before the blowout about the scratches happened. They’d gotten pulled into make-up sex and it had been pushed back to the dark corner of his mind.

Until now. Was Yev about to confess? Did he even want to hear it? More like, was he even capable of hearing it in the first place? Already his heart felt like it was being squeezed and the hurt, scared look on Yev’s face only added to it. 

“Shit.” Mickey turned to pace a little. He could feel Yev trying to tell him, but the words didn't come. He could see Ian moving closer to Yev trying to comfort him, support him. “Please don’t tell me that Yev, please.” 

The emotion in his own voice was enough to let him know that what Yev was about to say, was what he was begging him not to. He could feel all the emotions welling up in his chest, building until he was drowning in them. They had nowhere to go. 

“It was me dad,” Yev sniffled as he tried to keep his own emotions back. What he was afraid of most was rejection. “The Lishman’s, it was me.”

Mickey let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a whimper, but it got caught in his throat all the same. He already knew it was Yev but hearing him say it felt so much worse. He started to pace, to try and outrun that feeling. His hands started to shake, then his arms, then his shoulders. 

Ian pulled Yev closer and wrapped and arm around him. He couldn’t fix this or change it. All he could do was support the choice that Yev made for him. If not for that choice, he wouldn’t be here.

Mickey kept pacing but his eyes were drawn to Ian and Yev, huddled close together like children with him as the angry parent. The only issue was, he wasn’t angry. That emotion wasn’t inside him but other ones. Dread, shock, helplessness, failure, happiness. And about 10 others he couldn’t focus on just yet.

“Yev,” he said in a breathless whisper.

It was all he could manage, and he didn’t know if it helped the situation or if it hurt it. Yev killed two people for Ian. Yev did it because he didn’t have the courage or conviction to do it instead. Mickey shot down the idea when Yev brought it up, when he said it would be worth it to get Ian back. Was it worth it? Two guilty people dead and he was able to have Ian with him? To feel him and touch him, to kiss him and talk and live. Ian was alive because of Yev. 

But on the bad side, two people were dead because of Yev. Guilty or not, they were dead. How could someone as goodhearted and sweet as Yev be able to do something so awful and not let it eat away at his soul? Mickey knew what it was like to take a life, to commit murder. As a cop, yes. Just to get something he wanted, no. The details and the why’s didn’t matter. Only that two people were dead so they could have Ian. 

“I knew you already knew,” Ian spoke up and tried to keep his voice low and soft. “I was going to tell you when you asked me.”

Mickey wiped his eyes, not noticing he was crying until his vision blurred. “Yeah, I already knew. Or I thought I did. But I hoped I was wrong.” He looked at Yev who was steadily crying, but he didn’t seem regretful. He knew that Yev thought killing them to get Ian was worth it. He knew it before it even happened, and he knew it now. 

“I don’t agree with it baby, not at all.” He hugged Yev closer to him and tried to fight back his own tears when Yev’s arms wrapped around him. “But if he didn’t do it, I would still be trapped in that place without you two.”

Mickey knew that was true. Everyone knew how much he needed Ian with him, and they knew all too well what would happen if he didn’t have him. Was sacrificing a part of Yev’s soul worth their lives? As a parent, it was his job to put his son first in all things. That included his life and his soul. It didn’t matter that this was out of his control, because he failed to protect Yev all the same. He knew how much killing someone could change you, for the worst. He knew of the sickness that could spread inside you because of your choice, he knew of the nightmares you would suffer each time you closed your eyes; he knew of the guilt you’d feel. And now Yev knew.

“This can’t be real.” He whispered and looked around the room, half expecting to awaken from his own nightmare.

“I had to do it dad.” Yev cleared his throat and tried to unwind from Ian. “I couldn’t just sit there and not help him. We didn’t know how long he would last, and he needed to come back.”

Mickey ignored the pain in Yev’s voice and stopped pacing to stand in front of him, nose to nose with both of his hands on Yev’s shoulders. “No, we wanted him to come back Yev. But nothing is worth what you gave up. Nothing!” He shook him a little, trying to get him to understand.

Yev gripped both of his sides and shook him as well. “He died dad; he was gone! You would have died without him!” 

Mickey felt tears prickle at his eyes because he knew Yev was right.

“Tell me why my soul, my innocence or my life is better, is worth a damn thing without you two in it!” 

Ian backed up, arms folded around his body, keeping himself together as his own tears started falling down his face. 

Mickey put both of his hands on Yev’s face and pulled him down to rest their heads together as they cried and fought to hold onto themselves and each other. “Nothing is worth what you gave up, nothing.” He took a shuddering breath and wiped the tears on his face. “But thank you.”

Ian smiled as fresh tears fell. He agreed with Mickey. Yev gave up a part of himself that he would never get back. But his life was gifted to him by that choice and he had to love the kid even more than he did before. 

“I’m not sorry it happened.” Yev spoke softly after a minute. “He is back, you are alive, and they deserved worse for what they did.”

Mickey nodded but waited to speak because Yev wasn’t done.

“But I am sorry that you had to clean it up. I’m sorry that I risked your job because of it.”

“It won’t come to that, but I know.” He pulled back enough to give them both some space to breathe and think. “I was covering it up before I even knew for sure that it was you.”

Yev winced. “Do I even want to know?”

Mickey could list all Yev’s mistakes, the biggest one being that he did it in the first place, but he didn’t. “No, you don’t. But it’s over.”

Ian moved slowly to stand between them. He didn’t even need to say anything because it was all out in the open now. The pain and gratefulness, the hard choices. All that would never go away for any of them. The only thing they could do was try to move past it. 

“I think this may be a good time to say how much I love you guys.”

Mickey and Yev chuckled but it was far from funny.

Ian smiled back at them and wrapped his arms around each of their necks and pulled them close. Both Yev and Mickey put an arm around his waist, and they all stood there, huddled together for a moment or two, to just soak it all up. They were alive and okay, a little worse for wear but they knew all too well how much worse it could be. 

Mickey felt more than saw Ian kiss his temple, then Yev’s, somehow telling everyone that the moment was over. Ian pulled back and they all broke apart. He turned to sit on the edge of the coffee table with Yev leaned back against the couch, Ian clanging around in the kitchen and brought three beers with him. Mickey quirked an eye when he handed it to Yev, but Ian gave that little wink, so he didn’t comment. 

They each popped the top and took a long drink, at least they were in sync in that aspect. But there needed to be another conversation. The one they really needed, and he knew Yev was not wanting to talk about this any more than he was about the Lishman’s.

“Yev…” 

Yev groaned and sat forward, fiddling with the beer bottle. “Yeah, I know.”

“How does all that shit, link with the stuff about you and Ian?” He asked and looked right at him.

“Okay, you remember all that research I showed you, about the soul swap?” Yev clarified, just to make sure everyone was up to speed. 

Mickey nodded. That was half the reason he said no to it, not to mention the murder part. “Yeah, I was worried about Ian getting stuck with theirs, fuck knows how bad that shit was.”

Ian smiled but stayed quiet. 

“Well, I had to go back and read all that shit because something wasn’t right when I was here earlier.” Yev cut his eyes over to Ian, blushed and looked away. 

Mickey looked at Ian too and they had a little silent recap on what Ian had told him. About Yev being aroused by something, or nothing as Yev called it. Now it created this awkward atmosphere around them.

“What happened exactly Yev?” Ian spoke up before taking another drink.

Yev huffed and took a drink as well, more alcohol might make this easier. “The best way to say it, is that I kept having these feelings. Like sex feelings.” He blushed again and looked away. “Not about Ian, or not that I thought it was about him, but I was seeing things, like memories or something.”

Mickey decided he needed to finish the rest of his beer and Ian, being the good guy he was, had another one ready for him. “Okay, and what the hell did you see?”

Yev kept his eyes down. “I saw your hands digging into Ian’s back, and another few images later I saw your back, scars and all.”

Mickey just blinked slowly, like he was waiting for an adult to come up and explain all this shit for him. Ian looked just as shocked. Apparently Yev hadn’t mentioned all that to him either. 

Mickey swallowed back the urge to vomit. “And when you say my hands on Ian’s back, you mean--?” 

Yev nodded. “Yeah, during sex.” 

The entire room stayed silent. That seemed to happen a lot around them. Like they needed a second to digest what the fuck the world just threw at them. 

“I didn’t know why I saw it or how, but it freaked me the fuck out and I left.” He waited a second before he was able to look up and meet their wide eyes. “On the way home, some douche bag elbowed me in the face and my lip split.”

Ian touched his lip. “Mine split just after you left.”

Yev groaned, not wanting to tell them the worst part. “Well, I went home, or back to Nick’s, and went over all that shit again. From top to bottom and I missed the last couple of pages.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and he stood, running his free hand into his hair. “Wait, are you tellin me you did that soul swap shit and you didn’t read the entire thing?”

Yev clenched his teeth, about to lash out, but he was right. So he just nodded. “I was so excited that it worked that one time and I guess I skipped the rest.”

“And what did the rest say?” He barked, that sensitive feelings mood vanished the moment Yev put himself or Ian at further risk by not getting all the details. 

“It said that the soul swap could have killed me if I’d done it wrong.” Yev looked up, trying to say how sorry he was with just one look.

And the ‘it' everyone refused to say was the Lishman murder.

Mickey put a hand to his heart as it started to pound in his chest. More painful than it had ever been with Ian. Yev could have died. It felt like acid was being pumped right into his chest, in his blood. Covering him from head to toe. He dropped the beer bottle and it bounced against the side of the couch and spilt on the ground.

“Shit,” Ian set his down and moved before Mickey’s knees hit the carpet. “Breathe baby, you know how this works.” Ian coached as he led them to the ground with Mickey half in his lap. His own chest hurt but he was dead, a heart attack was only pain for him.

“Fuck,” Mickey sucked in a deep breath and it felt like it made it worse.

“Dad please,” Yev cried as he moved to the ground. “I’m so sorry, please.”

Mickey, in pain and pissed the hell off, still reached for him. He grabbed Yev’s hand with his own and squeezed. “I’m fine Yev, don’t worry.”

Ian shook his head at the blatant lie but kissed the back of his ear. One of his hands moved to rest on top of Mickey’s heart and he moved one of Mickey’s to his, just like he always did. “In and out, just listen okay?”

Mickey nodded and closed his eyes. He focused, not on the pain but on the fluttering of his heart, of Ian’s. Their heart. Ian was real, he was back. Yev was alive. The fear he felt was real, but useless. He breathed in and out, one hand in Yev’s and the other on Ian’s chest.

“See, there we go.” Ian took his own advice and tried to breathe past the receding pain. “Just like that.”

It took a moment, or 15, but eventually the pain was just an echo. A memory. He squeezed Yev’s hand once more before Yev backed up to give them more room. Panting, he looked back, his head lolling lazily to the side to see Ian’s eyes. His hand slipped from his heart, up to his neck and brought their heads together.

“Thank you.” Mickey whispered. 

Ian squeezed his arms around him as he leaned down to kiss his lips. “I told you baby, we got this.” With a smile from Mickey, Ian tapped his side. “Come on, up we go.”

Yev paced the floor as they both got up a little slowly and they looked like they hadn’t slept in weeks. 10 times as bad as before. As soon as his dad was up and Ian backed away, he hugged him.

“Shit!” Mickey hissed as the pain when Yev squeezed but didn’t tell him to stop. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed just as hard. “I’m good kid, nothin to worry about.”

Yev let the lie be and moved back. “I wish this fucking talk would get easier.” He mumbled as he took a seat at the coffee table and let them have the couch. “Anyways, I didn’t die, so that’s good.” They glared at him. “But that’s not all the article said.”

Ian pulled Mickey to rest against his back, one arm hung over the middle of his chest for his hand to rest over his heart while the other went around his waist. “What now?”

“That lady, whose husband came back, she starting having visions or memories, whatever the fuck you wanna call them, about his death, about his cremation.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. “But I thought the swap was for the guy who died and the guy who killed him?”

Yev nodded. “She thought so too. Until then. I saw what she did, not the death or anything, thank fuck, but other things. Sex things.”

Mickey was running like a madman in his mind. Freaking the fuck out. “So…?”

“It turns out, that the soul swap is between the dead person,” he shot a sympathetic look at Ian, “and the one who performs the damn thing.”

Mickey and Ian just sat there with their mouths hanging wide open. Yev was right, this talk kept getting worse and worse the more he spoke.

“I have your soul?” Ian asked in a scared tone.

“Not all of it, no. But a piece. I guess. It makes more sense to have it that way. Why would you want the soul of your killer?” Yev asked a little playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

“Holy shit.” Ian blurted, now feeling his heart beating a little fast. “This can’t be right.”

Yev nodded. “It is. And it doesn’t change anything by the way.”

Mickey closed his mouth, trying not to look so freaked out. “What doesn’t change?”

“Even if I had read the entire thing, even knowing Ian would get a chunk of my soul, I’d be more informed, but I still would have done it.”

Ian gave a soft smile and reached forward to squeeze Yev’s hand. Yev squeezed back, gave that blinding smile his dad had and that was it.

“And the rest?” Mickey asked, just because he had no idea how to handle the fact that Yev shared his soul with Ian and didn’t seem to mind. 

“I clicked on a bunch of different links after that. Trying to figure out why that woman was having those thoughts and images. I guess it has to do with their connection.” Yev took a breath and readied himself for the next part. “It doesn’t say why or how to get rid of it, but somehow I am experiencing Ian’s passion for you, or his love.” 

“Say what now?” Mickey asked and he was pretty sure he’d said that already. “Ian’s—” he trailed off because he couldn’t say it.

“I didn’t see the actual sex, just pieces of it.” He huffed, already embarrassed and uncomfortable enough without him saying it. “It’s more like a picture book full of images, they pass by before I actually have time to tell what they are.”

Ian swallowed thickly and wished that he and Mickey were wearing more than just boxers and his t-shirt. “Then what about this?” Ian pointed to his lip.

“Did you feel any pain?” Yev asked as he leaned forward.

Ian shook his head. “No, it just showed up.”

“I guess this weird shit is mutual then. I see gross shit,” he rolled his eyes when they scuffed, “and you seem to get the physical stuff.”

Mickey cursed when he said that, tipped his head back and closed his eyes because he could not deal with this shit. 

“Baby, what is it?” Ian asked, looking to Yev.

“You heard him Ian,” Mickey pushed off his chest and sat further down the couch, “you get the physical shit.” He motioned to Ian’s shirt and looked away.

“No fucking way!” Ian put his hands over his face and knew that whatever the hell happened during that soul swap, it needed to be reversed.

Yev looked back and forth between them. “Am I missing something?”

Mickey scuffed. “Yes, you really are.” He rubbed his lip. “So tell me, after you did all this research and shit, did you and Nick fuck?”

Ian’s head shot up, ghost white. “Mickey!”

Yev stood up, curling his lip back in a snarl. “That’s none of your business.”

Mickey stood up too and they gravitated towards each other with steam coming out their ears. “Well, after this fucked up soul swap shit, it really is.” He looked at Ian. “Show him.”

Ian groaned and stood up too and started by inching his shirt up in the front and turned his head away. 

Mickey pointed to the red scratches across Ian’s hips. “That shit was not from me.”

Yev looked as pale as Ian did. Swallowing over and over to keep the beer from rising up. “Oh fuck.” He looked down and inched his shirt up as well.

The same marks. Just like the split lip.

Mickey glanced down because he had to, he just fucking had to and there it was. Nick’s marks across Yev’s hips. “Jesus fucking fuck.”

Now Ian turned, because he knew Mickey would ask him to and pulled his entire shirt up until it bunched around his head.

Mickey blushed at the red marks across the center of Ian’s back, but beat it down and motioned to the full sized bite mark on his shoulder and neck. “Also, not mine.”

Ian put his shirt down and turned to see Yev running for the kitchen sink before he lost every bit of that beer he chugged. He glared at Mickey. Why? Because he made Yev prove it was him. 

“What the fuck do we do about this?” Mickey asked and moved to the row of jackets at the door and shrugged on the hoodie that Ian had. 

Ian shook his head, flinching each time Yev gagged that painful sound. “Uh,” he opened and closed his mouth, trying to answer the question. “Uh, we could, um…just.” He trailed off and sat back on the couch. “Fuck, I have no idea what the hell we are supposed to do.”

Mickey moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing and trying to offer some sort of comfort. He glanced to Yev, who had shut the water off and was leaning against the counter looking a little too green.

“We need to figure this shit out.” Mickey offered the obvious answer. “You said you did more research?” He arched his eyebrows at Yev.

Yev nodded and moved back into the living room. He breathed shallowly, with a hand over his stomach. “Yeah, but it didn’t say anything about reversing it.”

Ian shook his head. “We don’t want to reverse it.”

Mickey and Yev both looked at him, eyebrows raised high. “We don’t?”

Ian shook his head, mindlessly rubbing the scratches on his hips. “No, we need to fix this, yes. But if we reverse it, if we can, Yev gets his soul back and I…”

Yev shook his head now as he stepped forward. “Then you leave again.” He said softly.

Ian smiled. “Yeah.”

Mickey felt his stomach flip, like maybe he was about to do as Yev had and lose all that beer. “Fuck. Okay, so we can’t reverse it. But there has to be something.” 

“I can go back over it all maybe.” Yev offered in an unconvincing voice as he shrugged. “It might say something about stopping it from happening.”

Mickey nodded. “That’s a start. You have all that shit here?” He asked in a hopeful tone. 

“No, it’s a Nick’s.”

Ian groaned as he looked at the clock. “It’s too late to run back and grab it, then come back and to through it all.”

Yev nodded. “I think it would make Nick question it, even more than he already is.” 

Mickey huffed. “Please tell me he didn’t know. We have enough shit going on without being tossed into the nut house.”

Ian shook his head. “Mick…”

“No,” Yev replied a little loudly. “Nick doesn’t know. I already told Ian I wouldn’t say anything.”

Mickey realized, with a helpful look from Ian, that he said the wrong thing. Again. Yev was getting defensive over it and for good reason. Nick was being kept in the dark, the same as he was. He had a little more experience with weird, but Nick was important to Yev. 

“Do you want to tell him?” Mickey asked after a moment, getting two very surprised looks in return.

“I have no idea.” Yev answered honestly. “He already knows I’m lying, and he know that whatever the fuck it is, I can’t talk about it.”

Ian smiled, a little impressed with Yev acting so grown up about this, and it was Mickey who acted a little too childish for his age.

“But I don’t like lying, especially not to him.” 

Mickey nodded. “Would he even believe you?” 

Yev shrugged. “He isn’t the gullible type. But without actual proof, I don’t think he would believe it.”

Proof meant showing Ian to Nick like he was a damn side show. Mickey didn’t like it. He didn’t even like that Lip knew, and up until a few hours ago, he actually liked that bastard. Nick was an entirely different story. They had too much history between them, bad blood. But Yev was also between them, as much as he hated it, Nick wasn’t going away any time soon. 

“Baby,” Ian called softly and waited until Mickey glanced at him. “We can’t lie to the people that matter to us. It’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair Ian,” he smiled quickly and turned to Yev. “But we can’t just keep telling people. If this gets out, people are either going to think we are fucking nuts, or that you faked your death and could go to jail.”

Yev’s eyes widened. “Why the hell would he go to jail?” 

Mickey took a seat beside Ian on the couch and couldn’t help how his heart sped up the second his long ass arm circled his shoulder. “Because a lot of resources and manpower have gone into working this case. Not to mention we have a body that we can’t explain, and Jimmy Lishman already told us what happened.”

“You mentioned moving.” Yev spoke up, getting their attention and Ian looked very surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 

Mickey cursed to himself and sat forward and Ian’s arm slid away. That talk had been hypothetical, when Ian had been taken, when Yev asked him about the soul swap.

Ian looked to Mickey, a little surprised. “Didn’t tell me what? Are we leaving?”

Mickey shook his head no. “When Yev asked me about the swap and you coming back, I told him we would probably have to move.” He glanced to see Ian’s eyes wide and a little watery. He knew why. “There is no way for you to have a life here anymore Ian.”

Ian nodded as his throat welled with emotion.

“Unless we tell your family, all of them, then we can’t stay here.” Mickey reached over, silently asking for Ian’s hand. After a moment, Ian linked their hands and squeezed. “We can’t keep you locked away in this place the whole time.”

“Mick, you can’t just leave. You’ve been here your entire life.” He looked at Yev, expecting him to be as upset as he was, but he wasn’t. He had that soft, loving smile on his face. “I won’t be the cause for you two to just leave your home, your friends, or your job.”

“Ian,” Yev spoke up quickly, “a home isn’t a place. It’s the people in it. Me, dad, you,” he paused and glanced at his dad. “Nick is my home too. So, it doesn’t really matter if we have to move to a new town or a new state, it’ll be worth it.”

Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand, grateful that his son got more feelings and emotions than he had in his entire life. Ian looked like someone just announced he was Prom Queen. He didn’t even fight it when Ian got up and moved to Yev.

Ian crossed the space between them in about two seconds and had Yev in his arms, squeezing him probably too tight. “You’re not supposed to say shit that’s gonna make me cry Yev.”

Yev smiled and huffed Ian back. “Well, it’s the truth.”

Mickey smiled, feeling his heart basking in the warmth of love from the two people he loved the most. 

Ian kissed the top of his head and moved back. “When we figure this out,” he looked back at Mickey, “because we will, you won’t mind just…leaving?”

“No, not if we are all together.” He glanced at his dad; his eyes hard. “All of us.”

Mickey hated that ‘us' included Nick now. Aside from that night he dropped Nick off, they hadn’t spoken. And that short phone call didn’t count. “Let’s just take this shit one step at a damn time. I don’t want to talk about moving and who sleeps where until we get some more shit fixed.”

Yev nodded and squeezed Ian’s hand.

Ian squeezed back, gave him one more totally unnecessary kiss to his head and moved back to sit on the couch. “And no more emotional shit.”

Mickey smiled and bumped his arm, getting a smile in return. “No more anything right now, okay? Too much shit has happened, and we can’t do a damn thing in the middle of the night.”

Yev yawned quickly, making everyone chuckle.

“So, you wanna crash here or you need a ride back to Nick’s?” Mickey was surprised he asked that in the first place. Yev just blinked at him, blue eyes wide while Ian just kissed the side of his neck. “Fuck, just don’t. Either of you. Here or there?” He asked again and lifted his eyebrows.

Yev’s reply, once the shock wore off, was instant. “Nick’s.”

Mickey nodded and stood to grab his keys. “And one more thing. Let’s just have a hands off policy, at least until we fix this.”

Ian shared a look with Yev. They blushed uncomfortably and looked away. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Yev nodded and stood. “Yeah, cuz really I don’t need to see or feel anymore shit.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. At least Nick didn’t have to deal with Ian’s marks on Yev’s body. That was enough to make him want to hurl. He shook his head, as if to shake the ideas away and bent down to Ian.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

Ian nodded and put his hand around the back of Mickey’s neck to pull him closer. “Be careful, yeah?”

Mickey nodded and let Ian pull him in for a quick kiss. Or, it was supposed to be quick. Ian had other ideas as his tongue slowly swirled into his mouth, good enough to make his legs weak. 

“Please!” Yev groaned and hung his head back, rolling his shoulders as the feeling of intense need spread around him like it was his own. 

Ian pulled back, a little breathless and too worked up for just one kiss but shot Yev an apologetic smile. “Sorry Yev, this shit is going to take some getting used to.”

Mickey moved away, a little green himself because Yev felt what they just did. It was…unsettling was a decent word for it. “No, we aren’t going to do this long enough to get used to it.”

Yev nodded and rubbed his hands up his arms to get the goose bumps to leave. “Good. Night Ian, please no weird shit.”

Ian nodded. “You too, just go to sleep.”

Mickey nodded and ushered Yev towards the door. He paused before he went through. “Love you Ian.”

Ian grinned as he turned on the couch, almost ready to get up and go to him. “Love you too baby.”

**

Mickey got called into work early this morning. Ian had to untangle from his back to get to his ringing phone and answered without wondering why he shouldn’t. Until Olivia started laughing and Mickey snatched the phone away. 

After he came back from dropping Yev off, it would have been so easy to drop their clothes and tangle into each other again. The need was there. It was always there. But they didn’t, they couldn’t. They ended up in their boxers, spooning as close as possible until they’d fallen asleep. 

Olivia called early, before 7. Mickey kissed him goodbye with the promise of lunch later and Ian let himself roll onto Mickey’s side of the bed and fell back asleep. He slept for half the day, close to 11. Being in that other place, he never slept. He didn’t eat, but sleep allowed his mind and body to relax. 

With Mickey’s smell all around the warm sheets, the feeling of home and family surrounding him, it was easy to allow himself to sleep all day. Until he remembered a little of last night, specifically about Lip and his big ass mouth. 

Nearly ruining their relationship before it had a chance to go anywhere real. That’s what had him catching the L to Cannaryville, staring up at his family’s house. It was quiet, which was odd. Even with a death in the family, time didn’t stop. There should be activity going on inside. Liam playing or Carl damaging something, Fiona yelling maybe, but there was nothing. 

It was a big risk coming back. Anyone could see him, and everyone knew him on the south side. But it was the only way to catch Lip by surprise. 

Ian stood between his house and Kev and V's house, trying to be quiet as he figured out who was inside. Fiona’s car was parked outside, but he couldn’t see or hear her in the house.

“Carl, go sleep in your bed.”

Ian heard Lip and ducked his head down when he moved into the living room. Ian guessed that lump of clothing on the couch had been Carl after all.

“Come on, I have some shit to do so you need to make sure and get Liam off the bus, yeah?”

Ian felt that sharp pain in his heart. The loss. They hadn’t just lost a brother, he lost his life, his family. All of it. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Ian smiled at Carl’s grumpy voice and barely saw as he got off the couch and moved sluggishly up the stairs. Lip, who was busy trying to gather up his things, was about to leave. Clenching his jaw, Ian moved from between the houses to the gate, choosing to jump it rather than have the entire thing clang together as he opened it. He barely had enough time to stand to one side of the door before the knob was being wiggled.

This was his chance. 

The door opened and Ian held his breath until it closed again, leaving Lip facing away from him. He moved fast, Ian grabbed him by his heavy jacket and slammed him into the opposite side with one hand, while the other moved to cover his mouth just in time for profanities to start spilling out.

“Calm the fuck down.” Ian hissed and Lip stilled the moment he realized who had grabbed him. He stopped struggling, eyes wide. Ian moved back. 

“Ian,” Lip hissed a little too loudly and stopped to look around, making sure no one was there. “Are you out of your damn mind?! You can’t just—”

Ian didn’t give him enough time to finish bitching. He balled up his fist, pulled his arm all the way back and punched Lip square in the face. The pain was instant but the look of Lip grabbing his bloody nose squelched that pain.

“The fuck?!” Lip closed his eyes and grabbed his nose.

Ian shoved him back, breathing a little too harshly for someone who didn’t actually need it. “The fuck yourself, you asshole.” He glared daggers at him. “Guess some shit doesn’t change, you’re still a fuckin prick.”

Lip glared right back at him. “Should I know what the hell this is about?”

Ian scuffed. “You just had to go and open your mouth, didn’t you? Giving my boyfriend advice on shit that isn’t any of your goddamned business.”

Lip flinched. “He told you?”

“Of course he fuckin told me!” Ian shouted, not caring when Lip tried to shush him. “What him and I are, what we chose to do with this so called second chance, has fuck all to do with you.”

“He didn’t need me to say it Ian. He’s been thinking about it since whenever the hell you came back.”

“After all the shit he’s done for me, helping me, not giving up, loving me,” he paused to shove him back again and fought the urge to punch him. “You have no fucking right to make him doubt me.” 

Lip wiped the blood on his jeans and leaned against the house. “Look, I wasn’t trying to be a total dick Ian. But you had to know it would have come up.”

Ian scuffed. “No shit, but at our own fucking pace. He didn’t need that shit shoved in his face like that. Especially since he helped your dumbass out of jail.”

It didn’t matter that he and Mickey had cleared this all up last night. Even sealed it with make up sex. It wasn't Lip’s business. 

Lip let out a deep breath, wincing as his nose cracked and he was praying it wasn’t broken. “You’re right, I’m sorry for starting shit.”

Ian blinked, unsure of what they hell was happening. Lip hardly apologized for anything. “I know this shit hit you out of the blue, and it’s still taking me and Mickey a little while to get the hang of shit, but don’t do it again.” He suddenly felt the need to have Mickey as close as possible. “We are trying to build something, something real. Something good. You can’t just barge in and fuck shit up with your opinion on how it should go.”

“Build what Ian?” Lip asked seriously. “Do you honestly think you two can have a future?”

Ian didn’t back down, nor did he let that negativity get inside and tamper with him. “Why wouldn’t we, hmm? Do you have any idea what we have sacrificed for each other? The shit we’ve had to go through?”

Lip shook his head because he really had no idea. 

“It’s more shit then you will ever know or understand.” Ian was slowly getting hyped up again, ready to fight until he was bloody if he had to. “And don’t sit there and tell me how weird this shit is because I already know.”

“How can this work?” Lip asked, eyebrow raised. “What, just tell people you faked your death or stay locked up inside his house away from people?”

Lip still didn’t understand. Maybe he never would. Maybe no one but him and Mickey would ever truly understand. “We can leave Lip, Mickey and I, Yev too.” He paused to see shock and uneasiness flow across Lip’s face. “We can go somewhere, a place where people don’t know who we are. And we can be happy.”

“Ian,” Lip spoke but his voice was unsteady. “You can’t just leave.”

Ian smiled. “Actually, I can. Unless we figure out a way to spin this shit into something workable, we will leave.” 

This wasn’t just to be a dick. Yeah, Lip may have deserved the punch, the lecture even. But he needed him to know how serious this was. How deep his feelings for Mickey ran. Deep enough, real enough that he would leave to be with him. To be happy and alive and together. 

“What about us?” Lip asked and his voice cracked this time around. “What about me, Ian? First you’re dead, then you’re alive all in a matter of days. Now you just…leave?”

“Like you said, I can’t stay here.” Ian lowered his voice, allowing himself to feel the cold outside. “The only reason I told you, was to keep you alive.”

Lip’s mouth dropped open.

“You needed to mourn me, then let me go.” Ian stepped forward, the urge to hit him changed into one to hug him. “You needed to move on and be happy, to live. Not to worry about me.”

“You’re my brother Ian,” Lip sobbed, tears slowly freely down his cheeks. “Dead or alive or a damn ghost, you’re my little brother. I’m always going to worry about you.”

“I know.” He smiled, feeling the wetness in his own eyes threatening to spill out. “But you don’t have to anymore. I did die, but I’m back now and nothing can hurt me. Nothing can take me away.” 

“But you’re going away…”

Ian nodded. “Not now, but when we get this all figured out, we are. And you will be okay Lip.” He put his hand on his shoulder to squeeze. “You always said you wanted me to be safe, to be happy.”

Lip nodded, that’s all he ever wanted.

“I couldn’t find that before. As many times as I tried, I just couldn’t get there.” He smiled, just thinking about how happy he was now. “Because I didn’t meet him yet Lip. Mickey. He’s it for me. He fucking saved me.”

They shared a teary but comfortable silence. Ian knew this was hard, not just for him and Lip, but for Carl and Liam and Fiona, for Debbie. He wouldn’t tell them, not any of it. The healing and acceptance process had already started for them. They were learning how to live without him.

“Me leaving doesn’t mean it’s the end Lip,” Ian spoke after a while, trying to bring this into a better place. “I’m going to be around for a long time.” He smiled, a little amazed that he was technically 16 again, if he shared Yev’s soul. “But this might be what’s best for now. For all of us until it becomes a little bit easier.”

“I know,” Lip wiped his face quickly. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t like it either. But please, don’t fuck with him like that again.” Ian managed to warn him again and ask it of him, all in the same sentence. “He loves me, all of me. The bipolar shit too, even dead, a ghost, whatever the fuck I am. He loves me.”

“Yeah, I kinda knew that too.” Lip huffed; he could see it from the first moment Mickey let out how much this case had bothered him. Maybe he really had loved Ian that entire time. 

“Look, I gotta go. Meetin Mickey for lunch, we have to sort some shit out.” He glanced at his watch, knowing Mickey was probably already waiting for him. “But we should get together soon. Maybe try and talk about all this shit from the beginning.”

Lip smiled a little. “From the beginning might help, just leave out all that gay shit.”

Ian playfully shoved his arm. “This conversation is going to be shorter than I thought then, because it’s full of gay shit.”

Lip snorted.

“Tons and tons of gay shit.”

“Okay, shut up before I hurl.” Lip’s smile died down because this was it. He had to go, for now and even that hurt. “Just don’t be walkin up here like that again. If you’re trying not to get caught, you gotta be smarter.”

“I’ll call next time, maybe you can come to his house for that shit.” He offered and smiled when Lip nodded. “Try not to worry man, I’m working it all out.”

Lip moved fast and wrapped both hands around Ian, hugging him tight. “I’m your big brother Ian, it’s my job to worry about you.”

Ian squeezed him back just as hard, happy that he got the chance to fix all the shit he hadn’t made time for before. “I know, and don’t ever stop because I need you.”

They pulled back, unashamed of the tears on their faces. As bad as this felt, it was nothing compared to Ian actually being dead. At least this way, he could talk and touch him. He could be his brother again. A better brother. 

“I love you Ian.”

Ian smiled, trying not to get too choked up. “Love you too man. I’ll get ahold of you soon. Promise.”

Lip nodded and Ian turned, taking the stairs slowly as he brought his hood up and his hat down to shield most of his face. He took the time to go through the gate and stopped on the other side of it.

“Take care of them Lip, especially Fiona.” He wiped away the tear that rolled down his cheek. “Don’t let her lose herself.”

Lip nodded, voice broken and watery. “I promise.”


	26. The Other Gallagher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keeping Ian's secret is getting harder when Carl decides he's had enough of being on the side lines and Yev doesn't want to lie to Nick again

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 26- The Other Gallagher

(Mickey's POV)

Mickey managed to tune out the most of Olivia and her ramblings. As bad as it sounded, he wanted her to shut up. Just to stop. He needed silence, he wanted to think. But she had a job to do, him as well, and she was trying to make sure each I was dotted, and every t was crossed for this case. Too bad his mind wasn’t in it. 

The case was closed. The information Jimmy Lishman gave them matched up with the story they had. Candice Lishman killed Ian Gallagher with the help of her coward husband. No justice, except a life for a life, or two lives. Jimmy was in jail, probably for a long time, Zeppelin Raines was in jail and the case was over. All of Ian’s things would be kept as evidence, in a plain cardboard box marked with his last name, in storage. 

That was no better than Ian’s body alone in the morgue still. Mags had cleared him, ready to be taken to any funeral home of the family’s liking, but the family hadn't come. From Lip showing up and punching him and making him doubt Ian, they’d never had a chance to talk about the funeral. Of course, that was before Lip knew the truth. 

And Fiona, well, he hadn’t heard from her since the day she came to the precinct to talk and he had to leave. Lip said Fiona wouldn’t be there for their talk about funeral arrangements. Mickey Already knew what was happening, Fiona had given up. On everything. Her brother died, her boyfriend was half responsible and now in jail. 

It was a fucking mess. 

Everything was a mess. Lip and Fiona, shit with Ian and Yev being tied together somehow. Now there was talk about moving. And how Nick seemed to work his way into that, curtesy of Yev. Now, he couldn’t even kiss Ian without worrying whether or not Yev would pop a boner over it. God, it was fucked. All of it.

This is why he couldn’t listen to Olivia drone on about the case. His mind was too full. Nothing else would fit. It poured in one ear and out the other, dripping a mess onto the floor that someone was bound to step in. 

“Mickey?” 

Mickey looked up from his cold coffee. “Yeah?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” 

“Nope.” He sighed tiredly at the glare she shot his way. “Liv, I’ve heard all this shit before, okay? I know Ian Gallagher is never going to get justice. Jimmy and Raines are in jail, the Lishman’s are dead. The case is over.”

Olivia sighed and took her own seat. “Yeah, I know.”

She was good enough to know that there was something off about this. Maybe she picked it up at the Lishman’s house, just some sort of silent clue that told her something was hinky. That’s why she was having trouble letting it go. It meant she was a kick ass detective and needed to get back with her partner before he fucked her over. 

Mickey leaned back in his chair and tried to console her, even if it was just a little bit. “How about we make sure we have the right paperwork, that all the evidence is accounted for, and I will call the family about the body.” He cringed and looked away before she could see the pain. 

“I guess that sounds like a plan.” Olivia offered him a smile. “You okay Mick? I know this has been stressful, but you just seem out of it.”

“Yeah, just some personal shit I’m dealing with.” He offered the vague explanation, cursing her caring enough to make him talk about it. “Nothing I can’t handle, but I just need some time.”

“Yeah, I get that. But you know you can talk to me, right?” She waited for him to look at her. “I know it’s not the same as Ni—” 

Mickey clenched his jaw, but she didn’t finish saying his name.

“It’s not the same, but your my partner, even if only for this one case. So if you want to talk about it, you can.”

It was a nice offer. And maybe if she really was his partner for more than just this once, he would open up a little. Not giving her all the details, but enough to maybe get some advice. But since this was over, she would be going back to her old partner, leaving him alone until Fuller could assign him a new one.

“I appreciate it, really. But I have to think it over first, try to do it on my own before I ask.” 

Olivia just smiled again. “Well, when you know, just give me a call. Okay?”

Mickey nodded, beyond grateful that he wasn’t alone here. “Now, let’s get the final shit done and move on, yeah?”

She sat up and grabbed for a stack of papers. “Paperwork is harder than the actual case.”

“Aint that the damn truth.” He shook his head and grabbed for the phone on his desk. 

“Callin the family?” She asked before looking back down to her stack.

“Yup, he needs to be sent somewhere.” He answered quickly as he dialed Lip’s number.

Lip was the last person on planet Earth or fucking Krypton, that he wanted to talk to. Just the sound of his voice was enough to piss him off. That fucker almost ruined shit between him and Ian with only a few simple words. Mickey knew their relationship was stronger than that, that it always would be. But fuck, it still hurt. 

The phone rang three times before dumping him into voice mail and he knew it was on purpose. It irritated the fuck out of him, but this was not a personal call. It was business. So, he decided to call the house number that was listed, maybe he would catch Fiona and possibly get a read on her.

Why he cared was simple; Ian. That was Ian’s family, even his asshole of a brother, and he had to care about them because he cared about Ian. Just as Ian had showed him how much he cared about Yev. It was family shit, everyone had to care about someone. 

“Hello?”

Mickey cleared his throat, not expecting a guy to answer, and it was not Fiona or Lip. “Yeah, I’m trying to get ahold of Lip Gallagher.” There was no way to know who this actually was, so he kept it short, polite and vague.

“He isn’t here right now. Can I ask who’s calling?”

“My name is Detective Mickey Milk—” and that’s as far as he got before the guy interrupted him.

“Mickey, Yev’s dad? You’re working on my brothers case.”

So Carl answered, Yev’s best friend. He hadn’t recognized his voice, it sounded deeper than he remembered, older. Tired maybe. But death would do that. It changed you in the worst ways, you had to adapt like Lip had done, or fall like Fiona. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Carl, haven’t seen or heard from you in a while.” Mickey didn’t count the one house call he made, he meant when Yev and Carl hung out together.

“Yeah, just sorting shit out here. You have something to tell us about Ian?”

Mickey sighed, not wanting to lie but could he, could they, come clean? Just tell Ian’s family he was okay? To ease their pain? 

“Yeah, I was supposed to talk to your brother about making arrangements for Ian.” He cringed again, even if he didn’t say it. “Any idea on when he’ll be back?”

“No clue. But is there any way I can meet you instead?”

That was expected. Mickey had a feeling that Carl wouldn’t be happy on the sidelines for long. It surprised him that it hadn’t happened until now. But Carl, like Yev, as only 16, close to 17. A kid. One who shouldn’t spend their mornings talking about his dead brother. 

“I rather your brother be there too. Maybe Fiona?” he asked, hoping for a good answer.

“Look, Lip is busy trying to handle shit. The shit that Fiona was supposed to take care of. But I’m here and I want to know.”

Mickey rubbed his eyes; Carl was leaving no room for discussion. Even if he said no, Mickey could bet that Carl would be on his way shortly after, probably pissed off at him. Maybe he and Lip could start a damn club, have rings made maybe or a damn handshake. 

“Fine. I can’t stop you from coming but I can’t release Ian’s body to you. You have to have a parent, or guardian or be over 18 for that.”

“Yeah, tell me some shit I don’t know.” Carl shot back. “Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be there.”

The phone went dead, and Mickey was left picking up the pieces, again. So, Carl was coming in to talk. Some talk that would be. Mickey had to be careful about what he said. Not just because Carl was a minor, but because he really did think that Ian was dead. This was not a time for slip ups or plan making. 

“So, I guess you didn’t get ahold of the brother?” Olivia asked with a frown.

“Oh, I did. Just not the one I expected.” Olivia stared at him, waiting for an explanation. “Carl Gallagher, 16. Said Fiona was…busy and Lip was out. So he is on his way.”

“16, that’s rough. But that entire family seems persistent.”

Mickey snorted. That was a good way to say it. He would have said stubborn, a pain in the ass maybe. “Yeah, well I can tell him some shit, the non-graphic kind and wait for Lip to make plans for Ian.”

She nodded. “That can’t be easy though. For any of them. No parents, forced to make the decisions about their brothers…funeral.”

A chill went down his spine. Unless they figured out a different way to say Ian was alive and well, there would have to be a funeral. Carl and Fiona, as well as Ian other siblings that thought he was dead, needed it. Deserved it. The rest of them, him and Ian, Yev and Lip would have to fake it.

“Well, Lip was supposed to come and talk to me about it all and I was going to help him. Give him some pointers.”

“But he decided to fight.” Olivia smirked, remembering their little tiff. “You never did say what that was about.”

Mickey kept her stare, not giving in to look away as he wanted. It would seem strange and she would pick up on it. “Well, he was not happy about the Lishman’s, or that no one would technically not pay for killing his brother.”

Olivia nodded. “I guess that’s a good a reason as any.”

He let out a deep breath. Why did lying always have to get harder? “Yeah, so we never got a chance to talk about it all. I guess Carl is coming, even if I said no.”

“Well, he can pass the information along. I can start going over the evidence. Making sure we have all we need just in case.”

In case, was usually left for cold cases that had the chance to get solved. Ian’s was already solved, his killers dead. But they needed to keep it. Or let the family claim it if they wanted. 

“Okay, so we have a game plan.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m getting some coffee while I wait for Carl.” He stood up and made sure to grab his cell phone, he needed to call Ian and let him know. “I can almost bet that he is going to wanna see Ian, so I’ll be down with Mags. I can grab the paperwork she has.”

Olivia stood as well and grabbed the mountain of papers. “Well, we might end up pulling an all nighter but at least it’ll be done. Catch up with you later?”

Mickey stopped just before he hit the break room. “Yeah, later.” He smiled when she did and took his time making a new pot of coffee. It was only midafternoon, but this shit always took forever, and Olivia was probably right about it being all night. Coffee was needed.

While he waited, he leaned against the cool window and dialed Ian’s number. The prepaid phone he had stashed away in case of an emergency came in handy. It rang a few times before Ian answered, sounding a little groggy.

“Baby?”

Mickey smiled at his sleepy voice. A touch deeper than his normal tone. “Hey, you sleepin?”

“Mmm hhmm,” Ian groaned as he stretched. “Feel like I haven’t slept in two weeks.”

Ian hadn’t given him details about where he had gone for those three, only that time was different, and he felt stuck. Caught in an endless loop. Ian probably felt like he hadn't slept in two weeks.

“Better get it while you can.” The coffee maker beeped and pulled him over to grab a cup. “Aside from that, you okay?”

“Yeah, but I miss you.”

Mickey smiled, feeling the day lift just a little. “I miss you too. Sorry I had to leave so damn early. This part sucks, the paperwork and shit.”

“Yeah, I bet. So what, just get shit together and it’s over?”

Ian didn’t sound mad or disdainful. Just curious. “Yeah, make sure we have all our ducks in a row in case someone has questions later on.”

Ian sighed deeply, not an overly irritated sound, but Mickey knew Ian realized what that meant. 

“I’m sorry,” Mickey spoke before Ian had a chance. He wanted to apologize right away, just because they had this conversation once; about him working all the time. 

“Mick, it’s okay.” Ian’s voice was still soft, sleepy. “I’m not mad.”

“Promise?” he asked, twirling the cup in a slow circle. 

“I promise baby. And since we couldn’t meet for lunch like we planned, maybe dinner instead?”

Ian always sounded so hopeful, even when it probably looked like they wouldn’t make dinner. He always tried to make the best of it, no matter what. That’s the type of people you wanted in your life, bright and hopeful. 

“Yes, dinner.” Mickey said with just as much promise as he could. “Is Yev there, or have you heard from him?”

“He called, said he was rounding up all that shit and would meet me here.” Ian groaned as he sat up. “We are gonna start digging through it all, maybe we can find some good news.”

That sounded a lot better than what his plans for the night. They needed answers as to what they were supposed to do, instead of digging for answers they already had. 

“Okay good.” Mickey rubbed his eyes, unsure of how Ian would take this next part. “I tried to call Lip.”

Ian was quiet for a moment. “You did?”

“Yeah, before all that shit, he was supposed to meet me and talk about all your arrangements and shit.”

“My body you mean?”

“Yeah, your bo—” his lips refused to say the rest. “That shit, yeah. But that was before he knew so we didn’t talk about it.”

“Okay, so?”

“Well the case is closed Ian.” He sighed; way too tired to do this. Too tired to say with Olivia, too tired to rehash all this out with yet another Gallagher. “Someone still has to claim you, sooner rather than later and Lip didn’t answer, Carl did.”

Ian cursed. “Did he say anything about Lip or Fiona?”

Mickey pushed away the cold cup of coffee and wished he and Ian could do this together. Somehow, this case was easier to handle when Ian had been with him every step of the way. As back up, as support. They supported each other.

All those causal touches, Ian leaning on him when he was too emotional to deal with the information. The way Ian looked at him like he knew it would be alright. That he would make it okay again. 

“Carl only said Lip was busy, he didn’t say doing what. And he said Fiona wasn’t doing anything.”

This felt like opposite of support. Would Ian understand the position Fiona was in? Of course it was hard for everyone; Ian being dead, but life didn’t stop. Everyone had to function still, work or school, life, loves. It wasn’t easy, damn near impossible, but you can’t just give up. And Fiona had. 

Ian sighed deeply, sounding just as tired as Mickey felt.

“Shit, I thought—” Ian took a second to try and keep the emotion from his voice. “She was helping me Mick. She was here and trying to help.”

“I know.” His voice was just as quiet. “Some people just handle shit wrong, or don’t handle it. Carl said she wasn’t, so Lip had to and that means Carl is on his way here.”

“What?” Ian asked, surprised.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer. He said he wanted to come by and talk about the shit Lip and I were supposed to talk about.”

“He’s only a kid Mick, he can’t deal with all that shit.”

Mickey didn’t point out that Fiona, an adult, wasn’t handling it. Carl didn’t seem broken like Fiona had, he seemed clear headed, bull-headed and determined to help. It was admirable and a little tragic. 

“I’m not going to shove the case files on him Ian, I’m going to give him some information about a few funeral homes that help people that come here.” 

“Please, just share as little as possible. So far only Lip and Fiona know some of the details, I don’t want Carl to know about that shit.”

The urgency in Ian’s voice made his entire body scream with the need to head home and just fucking hold him. To wrap Ian up in his arms and tell him, no, to promise him that it would be okay and chase that pain from his voice. Those green eyes would be dim, filled with sadness again. 

Mickey stood, pacing around the break room and tried to get that feeling to back down enough to work. 

“I won’t, just info this time, I promise.” Mickey caught a shadow in the doorway and glanced over to see Olivia pointing behind her. He had company. He nodded and held up one finger and she left. “Look, he just got here. Just trust me, yeah? I have a little experience dealing with 16 year old’s.”

Ian laughed. “Yeah, I guess you do. Got that dad shit down.”

Fuck, Ian was making him a little addicted to that domestic shit. Nothing like Ian being bare foot and pregnant, but that happy feeling when you go home and smell dinner, or the warmth inside compared to the cold. That smile that would light up your face when they come and kiss you hello. Ian did that. Ian made him feel all those things, by doing nothing at all. It Just felt like home. 

Waking up to Ian in his bed, wearing his clothes; even when he had his own. Or pouring him a cup of coffee as he got one for himself. How it was so easy to be happy around him. Not to mention when Ian talked about him being a dad. It sparked that fire inside him that always yearned for that perfect family. Husband, kids, four bedroom house with a dog. He wanted all that and more with Ian.

“I try my best.” He chuckled softly and could almost hear Ian’s smile. “You take care of mine; I’ll take care of yours. Deal?”

“Yeah baby, deal. Just call me soon, okay?”

“I will, I promise.” That was a promise he meant to keep, even if he had to step into the damn bathroom for a moment of privacy like a teenager. “I love you red.”

Ian chuckled again. “Love you more baby.”

Mickey ended the call before they got into that schoolgirl shit of, “no, I love you more.” He wasn’t sure his pride could take it. Well, maybe it would for Ian.

By the time he dumped his cold coffee and got another one, Carl was standing by his desk and he wasn’t alone. In his chair, was another kid, maybe 8 years old and he knew it was the littlest Gallagher. He hadn’t seen him aside from pictures, but he hadn’t expected Carl to bring him.

Mickey stood in front of them, Carl nearly towered over him, and crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything, as the little guy smiled and spun around in his chair. He gave a look at Carl, eyebrows raised.

“I had to bring him, for reasons I already told you.” Carl huffed, not wanting to say too much.

Mickey tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a minute. The world was testing his people skills right now. He wasn’t good with kids, not even his own, or when Yev was that age. And this was not the place for a kid. It wasn’t like the doctor’s office with toys and games and fun shit. This had guns and piles of paperwork and awful coffee. 

“Okay, I get that, I really do,” he paused to smile when the kid looked up at him. “But I am not going to tell you that shi—that stuff, with him standing here.”

God, he couldn’t even not curse. Yev had grown up with it, cursing way before he was supposed to and knowing that this kid was a Gallagher, he probably had also. But he didn’t want to add to it. 

“Got a place he can chill for a few?” Carl asked and looked around. 

Mickey looked around too, seeing the same nothing that Carl did. “I can have someone sit with him, maybe put on some tv.”

Carl scuffed and dipped into his pocket for his phone and handed it to Liam. “Dude, need you to chill here so I can talk to Mickey, yeah?”

Mickey watched him nod and grab the phone without an argument. He was a little surprised at how easy going he was. And 8 year old Yev would have asked a shit load of questions and whined and fucked with shit. He wouldn’t have done what this kid just did. 

But he was still alone, still within hearing range of a bunch of bad shit. Only bad shit. Mickey looked around and spotted Elliot coming out of the break room. He waited to catch his eye and waved him over.

“Just gimme a sec.” he mumbled at Carl and moved to Elliot.

“Hey Mickey, you okay?”

Mickey nodded. “You busy right now?”

Elliot shook his head and sipped his coffee. “Not at the moment. Why?”

“Got a kid, shit, more like two but I need to talk to one without the other dickin around.”

Mickey watched Elliot glance over to see Carl’s brother sitting quietly in his chair with his attention totally on the phone.

“He doesn’t look like he’s going to mess around Mick.”

“Yeah, I know but it feels weird to leave him alone. Think you can keep an eye out for a bit? Just make sure he doesn’t see anything he shouldn’t?”

Elliot nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I can take him to the Crib. It has a couch, tv and nothing he can get into.”

Mickey already felt that worry leave and was thankful Elliot was a dad of like, 5 kids. Or maybe it was 4? Either way, he was well aware of how kids could con you into a bunch of shit. 

“Thanks man, it shouldn’t take long.” Mickey lightly knocked his shoulder and they walked back over. “Carl, this is Elliot. He’s gonna keep an eye on…?” He asked, unaware of his name.

“Liam,” Carl ignored Mickey and looked down at him. “You cool with that?”

Mickey smiled a little when Liam nodded, a little smile on his face as he got up. Elliot gave him a reassuring look and lead the little guy away, far, far from all this bad shit. 

“Good now?” Carl asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Teenagers, Jesus.

Mickey only offered a scuff in return, grabbed the folders on his desk and lead him into one of the empty file rooms. It was private, with a table for them to sit at and he wasn’t sure what all Carl expected from this.

Mickey traced the edges of the folder with his fingers as he spoke, trying not to give in and tell Carl everything he was going to ask the second his mouth opened.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not going to talk about the case with you.” Mickey stated flatly and already Carl’s eyebrows rose high.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I told you brother that the case was closed. Soon, it will all be a matter of public record so if you want to know, ask Lip or wait and find the info out yourself.” He huffed, losing some of the fire he felt briefly, it was replaced with fatigue. “But, I suggest that you don’t look.”

Carl crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“Because it was a really bad case and you don’t want all that shit in your head, trust me.” Mickey saw a flash of something, probably fear, flash across is face before Carl beat it down. “You don’t want to remember him like that.”

Carl glared but nodded. Unsure of what he wanted to do. “Fine, tell me what you and Lip were supposed to talk about.”

Mickey wiggled the folder but didn’t hand it over. “On one condition,” that glared intensified and it reminded him a little of Ian. “I want to tell me what shit Lip has going on.”

Okay, so it may have been none of his business, but Lip had done the same so Mickey figured it was fair. Whatever was happening, it would only get worse and despite Lip acting like a prick, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

Love was the only logic here. His love for Ian forced him to give a shit about Lip. About all of them.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Carl shot back.

“Because he is going to lie to me and tell me it’s fine.” He countered with a groan. 

“Yeah, so?”

Now Carl was just being an asshole, but it kinda ran in the family. At least with Lip. “So, shit gets harder before it gets better, and I want to help.”

Carl’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Why?”

In the South Side, nothing comes without a price. Even gratitude. It was normal for Carl to assume he wanted something in return for helping them. Mickey was grateful he got Yev out before that understanding took a hold of him too. 

“I just want to help Carl. You’re my son’s best friend, that’s my reason.” He saw Carl sink lower into the chair, losing his tough exterior just a little. “I’m sorry for what happen to Ian and for what your family is going through.”

Carl let out a deep sigh and nodded. “Lip didn’t tell me anything was wrong but I’m not stupid.”

Mickey relaxed as well and listened.

“Fiona hasn’t been to work in days. That means no money. My sister Debbie is trying to finish her senior year and balance a job.” 

Each word, each struggle, was making it harder not to promise to fix it all. Mickey didn’t have that power. But he could help.

“Lip left school to come home and help out, to find out what happened to Ian.” 

Mickey nodded because he knew that too. That’s what family was supposed to do.

Carl ran a hand into his hair, a little nervous. “Lip got something in the mail about school and his tuition. He’s been using his scholarship money, all the loans and grants and shit, to pay most of the bills.”

That surprised him. Mickey felt stupid that it did. If Fiona wasn’t working, that meant no money. Bills didn’t just stop, and she was caring for 4 people, not including herself. So Lip was picking up the slack, sacrificing his future, his happiness, for his family.

That made him hate Lip a little less. 

“And he doesn’t know you saw it?” Mickey asked.

Carl shook his head. “Saw it and a tower of bills on the counter. So now, my brother is dead, my sister is probably going to flunk out to keep her job, Fiona is holed up in her room like a damn zombie and Lip can’t go back to school.”

Carl’s voice cracked halfway through it but didn’t let it get the best of him.

“And Liam…” Carl trailed off as he leaned forward to put his hands into his hair.

Liam. One name on the never ending list that made all this shit harder. 

Mickey let out a deep breath and decided not to comment or make promises. Carl would know it was a lie and the respect he fought for would be gone. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help, but he would have to see what he was able to do, if anything. 

Mickey pushed the folder across the table and got Carl’s attention. “This is a list of services that might help.” Carl took the folder but didn’t open it. “Funeral homes or places that do cremation, if that’s what you guys decide.”

Carl looked a little pale. All that snarky shit was gone. Replaced with a look of fear, like maybe this suddenly became real to him. Which was the main reason he hadn’t wanted Carl to come, or if he would have waited for Lip. 

“I know you and your family will want to talk it out together, decide what the best route is. The best places, or prices, maybe you guys have a church you prefer over a few others listed.”

Carl shook his head. “Uh, no, not really. We haven’t been to church since our mom took us when we were younger.”

Mickey figured as much. That didn’t make this any easier. “Some places are easier to organize than others. Some help do most of the work after a price is agreed on, in case you guys didn’t know what you wanted.”

Mickey never had this talk with Ian either. It was on their ‘no-go' list of shit to talk about. They didn’t want to jinx the time they had. And after a while, Ian didn’t feel dead anymore. So he didn’t know if Ian had any specifics.

Maybe he could get Ian to talk it over with Lip. Or write it down.

“I don’t know what he would have wanted.” Carl spoke softly after a minute. “We never had that talk before. We had no reason for it.”

Mickey nodded. At 22, Ian shouldn’t have had to talk about it. Or decide. He was so young, full of life. There was no need to talk about his death. 

“Just take it home, have Lip go through it, talk it over. If you have questions after that you can ask me, or I’m sure they would be happy if you called.”

“Burial is more expensive.” Carl said just because, with no prompt from Mickey.

Mickey nodded. “It is. More goes into it. Preparation and the casket, the grave and headstone. A service. But different places had different prices, payment options. Or there is other ways.”

“Cremation you mean?” 

“Yeah, that too. It’s a lot cheaper but some people like having a grave to visit, a place to see them again.”

This was way out of his league. He never did this shit. Giving out info like this to victims’ families. Not to this extent. That wasn’t his job. It fell to the family to construct it all. But this family needed a little bit more help and talking never hurt anyone.

Carl leaned forward with his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

It was so soft that he wasn’t sure if Carl said it or if he thought it. “Don’t over think it now. You have some time. The devil is in the details and your brother still has to claim Ian’s body. I’m sure he’s going to call and bitch me out for talking to you about this.”

Carl gave a little smile and Mickey knew Lip would do just that. Carl knew it too. And as if on cue, his phone started to ring. Mickey dug into his pocket, surprised to see Olivia calling. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Mick, I have that Gallagher boy here to see you.” 

For a moment, his mind went to Ian. That was his Gallagher. But of course, that was impossible. “How long has he been there?”

“Long enough to get mad that little man, uh…Liam, is here. Wanted to talk to you ASAP.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and caused Carl to laugh. It was nowhere near that snarky attitude, but laugh was a good start.

“Big bro is here, not to happy about Liam being here.” Mickey stood as he spoke.

Carl stood too, tucking the folders under his arm. “Fucker should have answered his phone.”

Mickey huffed out his own laugh. Carl was more like Ian than he thought. “Okay, thanks Liv. I’m comin to you.” He hung up the phone and they walked out of the file room together and back into the bullpen. 

Lip was standing at his desk, arms folded on his chest, but his back was to them. Carl plopped down in his chair, making Lip turn. It looked like he was getting ready to lay into him, but the look on Carl’s face stopped him. 

That broken, shattered, kicked puppy look.

Lip’s face softened and his hands fell to his sides. Mickey noticed that Lip’s face was fucked up, like someone took a swing at him. 

“Hey man, you cool?” Lip asked softly.

Carl nodded and handed him the folder from Mickey. “Yeah, I’m good. Just getting the shit for Ian.”

Mickey smiled. Carl was both abrasive and respectful at the same time. It was impressive.

Lip glanced at him and Mickey did not look away or flinch. He wasn’t in the wrong here this time, or last time for that matter. Lip stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and stomped that friendly understanding they had into dust. 

“Where’s Liam?” 

Carl pointed. “Some cop took him so I could talk.”

“Carl, I need a second with Mickey.” He looked from his brother to Mickey, unable to make his tone of voice sound any better.

Carl rolled his eyes and stood. He turned to Mickey and offered him his hand.

Mickey blinked back his surprise and extended his own and was given a very firm, manly handshake. 

“Thanks for talking to me.” Carl nodded, unable to manage a smile.

“Anytime Carl,” he glanced at Lip and couldn’t read his expression. “Take it easy, yeah?” Carl nodded and turned to get Liam and give them a little privacy.

He had some idea what Lip would say. Probably pissed at him for talking to Carl in the first place, a minor. Mad that Liam was there even though it was out of his control. Mad that he was still involved. Just fucking mad and Mickey wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m sorry.” Lip spoke clearly, making sure to keep eye contact.

Mickey stood there with his mouth open, blinking dumbly. That was the last thing he expected from him. “What now?”

“I said I was sorry.” Lip repeated and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I should have stayed out of it. Even if Ian is my brother, that shit wasn’t about me.”

Again, Mickey just stood there. He had been prepared to fight him, fists or words, both if needed. Now he received an apology? He didn’t have time to adapt. 

Lip wouldn’t just come to this conclusion on his own. And Mickey had a good idea why this was happening, and it had everything to do with his current black eye.

Ian had gone to Lip and fucking punched him for the way Lip made him doubt Ian, to doubt them and what they had. Satisfaction bloomed in his chest, along with so much love Mickey was sure hearts and flowers would pour from his ears. 

Mickey smiled widely, unable to help how good he felt. Maybe Lip felt it too because he gave a knowing smile. “He make you come here?”

Lip shook his head. “No. I was handling some shit after he handed me my ass and wanted to come.”

When Lip held his hand out, trying to show how sorry he was, to show respect, Mickey didn’t hesitate to grip it tight and shake it. It didn’t make it better or right again. It didn’t bring them back to friendly, but it was worth something. 

“Thank you.” Mickey nodded his head. “And I meant what I said Lip. If he wanted to go, I’d let him.”

It was Lip’s turn to nod. “Yeah, I know Mickey.”

Their hands dropped and the moment was over. It would be up to them to move past it. But Mickey didn’t like the silence, he hardly ever did. “And for the record, I didn’t tell Carl a bunch of shit he didn’t need to know. Just a list of places to call.”

Lip smiled. “Thanks.” 

“We ready?” Carl asked as he stepped up to them with Liam asleep on his shoulder.

Mickey nodded. “Remember what I said Carl, yeah?”

Carl nodded and shifted Liam’s weight over to free up his hand. “Thank you.”

He was 0 for 2. Both Gallagher’s picked tonight to surprise him with this shit. Mickey smiled and shook his hand and got a smile from Lip in return. “When you get a chance, come by my place. I might have more we can talk about.”

Lip simply nodded. They were being vague on purpose. They didn’t want Carl to hear them, but Mickey wanted Lip to know that they might have more information about Ian. Or all of it since Lip had no idea what all had happened.

“Maybe tomorrow. Night Mick.”

Mickey waved and watched them leave before he took a seat at his desk. 2 hours had passed since he talked to Ian and was going to hold up to his promise about dinner, but he had one more thing to do before that

The papers were scattered on his desk as he searched for the right one. When he found it, he picked up the desk phone and quickly dialed the number. Someone picked up, a little surprising since it was getting pretty late.

“Massachusetts Tech, this is Brianna, how may I transfer your call?”

“Yes, I need to speak to the dean please.” 

She didn’t reply, just clicked a few buttons and that annoying elevator music sounded on his ear for nearly two minutes before the line was picked up.

“This is dean Justin Donovan; how may I help you?”

The guy sounded nice, that was a start. “Yes, my name is Detective Milkovich with Chicago PD.”

The guys happy sounded voice dimmed and held a dash of worry. 

“Yes, what can I do for Chicago PD?”

Mickey cleared his throat and gave a look around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Yes, I need to talk to you about one of your students, Phillip Gallagher.”

**

Yev sighed heavily as he ran his hand through Nick’s hair. They had spent the better part of the morning together. Nick was on night shift, the opposite of him and school hours, even though he hadn’t been going. Not to mention how busy he was and never saw Nick that much anymore. 

Even now, he was set to go to Ian’s, to short through all that research, but that would mean he had to wake Nick. Who was currently between his legs as Yev was propped up on the arm, legs spread wide for Nick to put his head in his lap, or on his stomach. It wasn’t sexual. Not even with them in only briefs, shirtless. Nick had fallen asleep within minutes of laying down, getting lulled to sleep each time Yev pushed his fingers into his hair.

As tired as he was, Yev couldn’t get his mind to stop working. Trying to figure out why this was happening, or how to keep it from happening. Even being with Nick, his mind wasn’t there. He wanted to tell him so bad, just to be able to keep their trust, to keep Nick from thinking he didn’t want him anymore. 

It was killing him. 

As Nick shifted, turning onto one side as opposed to his back and Yev lifted his leg from where it dangled off the side and rested it on the edge of the couch. He smiled as Nick gave that deep sigh and rubbed his face along his hips. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping with me.” Nick mumbled against his skin and didn’t open his eyes 

Yev gripped his hair and pushed it back to be able to see his eyes when they opened. “I’m sorry, my brain won’t shut up.”

Nick slowly opened his eyes, a little blurry from sleep and looked up. “Want to talk about it?”

Ian and his dad didn’t really say no when they talked about this; telling Nick. Of course Ian was on his side, it seemed like he always had been and that was more than comforting. But his dad was afraid, always afraid that something bad would happen. And given the fact that he hated Nick in the first place, it probably wasn’t a good idea. 

Nick noticed him spacing out a little, like he’d been doing for a few days now. He turned until he was on his stomach and slowly crawled up Yev’s body until his chin could rest on Yev’s chest.

“Wrap your legs around me love.” Nick patted his thigh, encouraging him. 

Yev wrapped both legs around him and even with the position and it still wasn’t sexual. 

Nick smiled and kissed his chest. “You know you can tell me anything Yev.”

Yev nodded because he did know, he always knew. Yet the fear was there. That maybe when he actually said the words, nearly impossible words, that Nick wouldn’t believe him. 

Maybe he could do what his dad and Ian had when they tried to tell him. Keep the specifics out and skirt the details and keep it as a Q & A. Ask Nick if he even believes that stuff, or if he thought it might be possible. 

“Is this about Ian?” Nick asked when Yev still didn’t answer his question.

Yev’s eyes widened a little. Did he know? Maybe he put the clues together for himself. “Why do you ask?”

“Because, you haven’t been the same since then.” Nick’s voice was soft, but he held no anger over it. “And I understand carino, trust me. But you need to talk about it.”

Yev let out a breath. So, Nick didn’t know. He just assumed it was Ian’s case in general. And he was right, but there was more. “Yes, it’s about Ian. And I’m unhappy with the way it turned out.”

Unhappy? Yeah, he was. Killing the Lishman’s helped as much as it hurt. Either they live and Ian leaves, or they die, and he is linked to Ian in a way they never expected. 

“Your dad did the best he could.” 

“Yeah, I know he did.” He bit his lip, about to ask what he really wanted to know instead of lying around the details. “Nicky, want do you think happens after you die?”

“Well, I think that if you’re a good person, you go to heaven.” Nick sighed and kissed over his chest again. “I think sinners go to another place, and I also think that there is a place for those who are good, but still do bad things.”

This explanation should have been expected from Nick. He grew up with a religious family. He went to church every Sunday, even if he was working. But he didn’t openly preach about it or push his beliefs onto him, or others. It’s just what Nick believed.

“Where do you think people go when they try to do good things even though they have to do something bad?” Yev asked, he kinda already knew what Nick would say. And it wasn’t good.

“Well, they do say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Nick studied Yev’s face and saw the worry flash across his eyes. “Have you done something bad baby?”

Yev didn’t lie, he just nodded. He didn’t look away like he wanted to, like he should have. No. He showed Nick all of it, the details of what he’d done weren’t there, but Nick would see something.

Tears welled to his eyes before he could try and stop them. Aside from breaking down that night with Nick, he night he killed them, he hadn’t let it get to him. Yev told himself that he did the right thing, that it was worth it. Ian was worth it. But it didn’t take the pain away, or the nightmares. He carried those close to his heart, for always probably. 

“I did something really bad Nicky,” he sniffled, but refused to take his hands away from Nick to wipe them away. “It was for a good reason, but it was bad.”

Nick scooted up further until he was laying against him so he could press their heads together. “Please tell me baby, please?” He moved to place a soft kiss on his head. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Yev let Nick wipe his tears away and kept them pressed closely together. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

On the table, Yev’s cell phone started to ring. They both looked over and Yev knew Nick saw Ian’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Yev…” Nick looked back; brown eyes wide. 

Yev wasn’t sure if he was thankful for that call or mad that Nick had found out like this. Ian was probably asking if he was still coming over and he hadn’t even tried to hide the name for the prepaid cellphone. Maybe Nick didn’t jump right to Ian being alive, but he knew that there was no way Ian could make a call. 

Yev grabbed the phone, thinking for a moment before he offered it to Nick. “Want to answer it?”

Nick’s eyes were wide as he sat up between Yev’s legs and took the phone. He paused, giving himself a moment to make sure. When Yev nodded, tears still sliding slowly down his cheeks, Nick swiped to the right and put the phone to his ear.

“Yev?”

Nick recognized that voice from when Ian had dropped Yev off that night, July 4th of last year. He didn’t see Ian, but he had heard that voice. Ian Gallagher was dead, yet he was talking in his ear.

Yev wrapped his arms around himself as he backed against the side of the couch, his knees tucked up to his chest. He didn’t know how Nick would take this and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“Yev, it’s Ian. You there?”

Nick let out a little sound, maybe a gasp of surprise or maybe one of those sounds you couldn’t even describe. “Ian?” He whispered, unable to take his eyes off Yev.

Ian sighed deeply as he let out a soft curse. “Hey Nick.”

Nick let the phone drop, landing on the couch as he took Yev’s face into his hands. He hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear dripped onto Yev’s knee.

“Baby,” his voice cracked as he rested their heads together again. “What did you do?”


	27. Magic

The Crimes Surrounding Ian Gallagher  
Chapter 27- Magic 

By the time Mickey left the precinct, it was after 9 and it would have been later if Olivia had her way. She wanted to check and recheck the evidence collected, and he finally had to tell her no, that he had plans. She almost argued about it, but she must have saw something on his face because she didn’t. She gave him that sweet smile and did the rest herself.

Things would have to be different with work and his home life. He hadn’t been too worried about working too much before Ian was around because Yev would rather be alone then always have him around. It was nothing personal, but Yev was 16 and didn’t need him like that anymore. It left him more time with Nick, which was supposed to be good, or he assumed it was.

But now he had Ian, someone actually waiting for him to come home. Who wanted him to come home. Mickey couldn’t pull 4 or 5 days at a time at work anymore. He would have to find a balance, or he’d quit. There was no way he would lose Ian over this job. The job was replaceable, Ian wasn’t.

They hadn’t been able to make lunch as they planned but Mickey made sure he was home to take Ian to dinner. At 9:30 on the dot, he pulled up and quickly made his way up to the door. 

When he unlocked and opened it, Ian was currently pacing a hole into the floor. Shit. That meant something else was wrong. Something was always wrong. 

“Let me guess,” Mickey shut the door and leaned against it, trying to hide his disappointment. “Something happened.”

Ian stopped pacing and running his fingers into his hair and nodded. “Yeah, no…” He shook his head. “Nothing worse compared to the other shit, but you’re not going to like it.”

Just by the tone and the anxiousness in Ian’s voice already told Mickey he wouldn’t like it. But he wouldn’t let all these problems and issues overcome their life. It couldn’t just pop up, ruin their plans and keep them from enjoying something as simple as dinner.

Mickey chose to study Ian’s body instead of his body language. Ian was actually wearing his own clothes this time. The jeans were far too long to belong to his, but they fit Ian like they had his exact measurements. Tight in the hip and ass area, baggier the further down they got but Mickey was still able to see his legs clearly. The shirt Ian wore was a deep red color, which complemented his hair so much it looked alive. 

As good as he looked, Mickey already missed Ian wearing his clothes, all a size too small but the shirts let him see every muscle in his chest and back and when Ian wore his briefs, they hugged Ian’s thighs and ass, squeezing him like Mickey wanted to.

“Are you listening?” Ian asked as he started to pace.

Mickey just shook his head, pushed off the wall and power walked to Ian. Ian looked a little irritated that he spaced out, but it vanished when he gripped Ian’s face and pulled him down.

“Mick—” Ian was cut off by a quick but incredible kiss.

“Is what you’re going to tell me bad?” Mickey asked as he rested his forehead against Ian’s. 

Ian nodded.

“Is there any way I can fix it right now, in this very moment?” he asked again, tracing Ian’s jaw with his thumbs.

Ian shook his head. 

“Then save it.” He smiled when Ian just looked at him, confused. “Last night got ruined by Yev’s information, no sex last night because of that shit.” He shook his head, annoyed because they had to sleep with clothes on. “No morning sex, then I had to fuckin work.”

Ian untucked Mickey’s shirt and pushed his hands up his back, memorized by his mouth as he spoke.

“I had to fuckin cancel lunch, then deal with your asshole brother, and now you wanna tell me more bad shit happened?” Mickey scuffed; this was unbelievable. “No, I don’t want to hear it.”

Ian knew what he was doing, trying to shove all that shit back but it wouldn’t just go away.

When Ian went to speak, Mickey kissed him again, deeper this time. Tilting Ian by his jaw until they moved together perfectly. Ian felt it too because when he pulled back, Ian bit his bottom lip, making him groan against his mouth.

“We made plans for dinner,” Mickey was amazed at the full power of Ian’s smile. “And we are going to keep them. No bad shit until after.” He bumped their noses together and closed his eyes, trying to relax. “Okay?”

Ian nodded and rubbed up and down Mickey’s back. “Okay baby, whatever you want.” Ian smiled again, unable to help himself. Mickey was just so fucking incredible.

“Good.” He found himself eying Ian’s lips again as that familiar heat pooled in his stomach as it did whenever they were close to each other. “Fuck, we need to go before we can’t.”

Ian nodded, feeling the urgency to blow off dinner and blow something else. “Dinner, yeah. We should just go.”

It would be so easy to say no, to cancel their plans and spend the next hour wrapped up in each other. It would satisfy them more than any food would, more so because they had been trying not to touch so much since last night and it was difficult. Even if they spent the day away from each other. If anything, the distance made that need worse.

“Fuck,” Ian groaned and let his hands slip down to palm Mickey’s ass and squeeze. “I’m not really hungry for food.”

Mickey’s hand on the back of Ian’s neck tightened, just like it did before he pulled him down to his mouth. “No?”

Ian shook his head and squeezed harder. “Got a craving for something else.”

The way Ian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed was drawing his attention. So much that he tipped Ian’s head back, instead of down, exposing the length of his throat as it stretched back. Mickey had to kiss it. Just a little.

“Baby…” Ian whispered.

“Shhh,” Mickey replied softly and pushed his lips against Ian’s throat just as he swallowed. “Maybe we could…” he trailed off to lick slowly up to his chin. “Just a little maybe.”

Ian shook his head no but did nothing to stop him. “We shouldn’t.”

They really, really shouldn’t. 

They were trapped in a trance. Mickey didn’t stop when his hands moved down to slip under Ian’s shirt, touching hard, warm skin. He didn’t stop when Ian fisted his hair and moved him across his neck, licking and kissing anywhere he was able. 

“Baby, please.” Ian begged and moved Mickey’s hand down to settle on his cock, hard and ready under his jeans. “Let me feel your mouth.”

That managed to pull him out just as his fingers popped the button on Ian’s jeans. Mickey stopped kissing his neck, just panting against it as his entire body sagged against him. 

“We can’t,” he whined pathetically. His body ached to be touched, demanded it. “Fuck, we can’t.”

Ian took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s body. “I know. God, I know.” 

It took a little time to slow down, to back their bodies off that edge. They leaned against each other until the need settled, until their ragged breathing evened out. Mickey pulled back, giving Ian’s lips a quick kiss before he pulled back, and Ian let him.

“So,” Mickey chuckled a little. “Dinner then?”

Ian smiled and moved to slip his shoes on and grab his jacket. “Dinner.”

**

Mickey couldn’t recall what restaurant they chose to go to, or what table number, or even what he ordered. He was too busy watching Ian. Watching him smile as they talked, or laugh when he made some corny joke, watching him eat because he actually could eat, finally. 

They didn’t talk about his case, or about Nick or Yev, or Lip even. They talked about the upcoming holidays; Christmas was inching forward. Not right around the corner but Mickey hadn’t given it any thought this year. They had no tree up, or those annoying but cheery Christmas decorations hung up around the house. 

Maybe it was an odd time to talk holidays, but they needed the illusion that their life was simple, just like everyone else’s. Ian loved Christmas. Not the gifts and all that shit, but the family time, the snow and just the over all feeling. Mickey smiled as he talked about it, Christmas in the Gallagher house. And even knowing one of those happy Christmases would never happen again, Ian didn’t let it distract him from sharing. 

Mickey was nearly on top of Ian every time he smiled or laughed. Turned in the booth so Ian was pushed against his side. Just softly rubbing up and down Ian’s side, or his back, felt wonderful. It felt normal and easy and real. 

“Are you even listening?” Ian smirked and pushed against his chest.

Mickey smiled. “I was, I promise. But I keep getting distracted when you smile like that.” Ian blushed and it made him smile harder. “I love when you smile.”

“I love when you make me smile.” Ian lightly kissed his cheek. “But, it feels like I’ve done all the talking and I hate that, so talk.”

Mickey snorted. “If I talk, I’m gonna talk about you.” He warned and slipped his hand up the back of Ian’s shirt, looking for nothing more than being close to him. “Can I talk about that?”

“No, because I don’t want to hear about me Mick,” Ian arched a little at his touch. “I’d rather hear about you, or Yev and how you spend holidays.”

Mickey nodded, giving in because the faster he told Ian, the faster he could go back to listening to Ian talk. “Uh, I guess it’s okay.” He smiled when Ian huffed. “Okay, when Yev was little, it was better. I think we both enjoyed it more, but I had to share time with his mom, so that sucked.”

Ian nodded and squeezed Mickey’s leg. “And now?”

“Now Yev is older, and the happy fairy tale part is over.” Mickey tried to think about the good things instead of the things they didn’t do anymore. “We don’t go all out, but we go chop a tree together, it’s better than those dead overpriced ones at the lot.”

Ian grinned.

“We make dinner or go out if he feels like it.” He paused for a moment, thinking of what they normally did and when it came to him, he wished it hadn’t. 

“Mick?” Ian asked and lightly touched his face. “What’s wrong?”

Mickey shook his head. “Nothin. We just used to see Nick and his family sometime before Christmas day.” He felt Ian sink against him and squeeze his thigh harder. “Just one of those things I really liked, until now.”

“Baby, don’t let what happened ruin all those good memories, please?” he waited until Mickey looked at him to keep going. “It’ll be different this time, maybe Nick will be there, maybe he won’t.”

Nick being there would never happen. Not like that. Not in some happy family way and it made his heart hurt just thinking about the strain it would put on him and Yev. There would be conflict about everything family related now. Yev would want Nick there and Mickey didn’t.

“Anyways, we just kinda do our own thing until he goes to his moms for he rest of the day. They do similar shit, but more crazy Russian shit thrown in.” he smiled, trying to bring them back from that heavier talk. “But, I won’t be so lonely this year when he goes.”

Ian smiled. “No?”

When Ian wiggled closer, leaning his head down so it nearly rested on his shoulder, Mickey huffed him closer and kissed his head. “No, because now I’ll have you.”

“You’ll always have me now Mick.” 

When Ian said things like that, it lifted something heavy off his shoulders. He felt so much relief, so much happiness. Positivity. Just knowing that he wouldn’t be alone, but with Ian. 

“Fuck,” Mickey closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the full weight of Ian’s body against his. “I love you so much.”

Ian moved back just enough to look at him, smiling. “I love you too Mick.” He nuzzled their noses together. “You know it’s gonna be okay, right?”

Did he believe that? That it would really all work itself out and they would live that happily every after? Happy seemed pretty far away, with way too many obstacles in the way, some of which, they didn’t know how to tackle. That’s where all the anxiety came from. Not knowing.

“How do you know?” Mickey asked and his fingers lightly brushed over Ian’s jaw, then his cheek. 

“Because it has to be okay Mick,” Ian leaned into his hand, then kissed it. “As bad as things have been lately, the only thing that can happen now is all the good stuff.” 

“Just do me a favor,” Mickey paused to kiss him again and Ian nodded. “When it’s all over, tell me that again.”

Ian nodded again and wound his hand up to the back of his neck and Mickey didn’t fight it. He let Ian lead them into a kiss. Soft and slow but so good. They didn’t rush to turn it into something more, it wasn’t a prelude for sex this time. It was just because. Just for love and hope and all those things they found within each other. The things they found because of each other. 

**

Sometime between that kiss at dinner and the way home, something changed. They went from soft and sweet to heavy and needy. Maybe it was the impact of their talk, or just because they could never get enough of each other, but by the time Mickey pulled the car into the parking lot of their apartment, they were all over each other.

All thoughts of why they shouldn’t do that, were thrown out the window. Only the need they felt was there. The need to be as close as possible and not just for sex. To touch skin and feel each others heart beats, to feel the blood rushing under their skin and to bask in the heat they created together. 

Even now, as Ian pushed him slightly against the outside door, his hands never moved below his belt. Mickey’s hands were up the back of Ian’s shirt, feeling his muscles shift, and Ian dug his nails into his lower back, keeping their hips pressed together as they kissed. 

“Baby,” Ian groaned against his lips, not willing to stop kissing long enough to talk. “I need you.”

Mickey nodded and bit Ian’s lip as he dug into his jeans for the keys to the door. “Need you.” He mumbled back and somehow managed to get the right key into the doorknob and unlock it. “I need all of you.”

Ian nodded and reached back to open the door and caught Mickey before he could fall back. They back peddled into the room, Ian kicked the door closed with his foot and let Mickey push him against the door this time.

“Fuck,” he broke the kiss as he groaned when his back connected with the door. 

Mickey smirked and moved to Ian’s neck as his hands worked his jeans apart. As Ian groaned, an echo of that groan sounded behind him. Mickey turned quickly, not expecting to see Yev and Nick standing there. Yev looked like Ian did, totally sexed out, his face flushed, and his hands curled into fists.

“Fuck.” Mickey groaned and moved away from Ian so he could fix his jeans. “I knew that was a bad idea.”

Ian nodded as he slumped against the wall. “Totally a bad idea.”

With a deep breath, Mickey turned back around, ignoring Yev and his current state of arousal because it was just too fucking weird, and focused on Nick. Standing in his living room like he belonged there. 

But then he realized something. Nick was there, and Ian. In the same fucking room. His eyes widened and as he looked back and forth from Yev to Nick, feeling indescribable anger replacing the lust and need. 

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” Mickey barked at Yev; eyes drawn in a glare. “How about why the fuck he is here in the first place, and how the hell he found out about Ian?”

Yev and Nick shared a look and Mickey realized Nick wasn’t as put together as he first thought. Nick looked like he aged 10 years, his eyes were wide, hollow looking with the dark bags under them and the way he hunched over, like some big burden weighed him down.

Fuck. Nick knew about Yev, and why he’d done, and why. 

“Mick…”

And then it had to go and get that much worse. Ian didn’t seem shocked, not even a little bit and by the way Yet winced, Mickey realized that Ian knew too, leaving him alone to find out like this.

Mickey turned to look at Ian, more like glare at him. His teeth clenched painfully as he backed up, putting a little room between them. “You knew about this?”

Ian nodded sadly.

“Was this the shit you were going to tell me?” Mickey asked just because. He knew it was, and it was his own fault that he didn’t know because Ian tried to tell him. 

Ian nodded again. “You said it could wait.”

Mickey scuffed as he turned to pace the side of the room that no one stood on. This was all too much and yet another night was ruined because of some type of bad news. “Uh,” he paused to run both hands over his face. “I literally don’t know what the fuck to say to you three right now.”

It felt a little like betrayal, when it wasn’t. They had the Nick knowing talk. They hadn’t come to an agreement about it all, but Ian was with Yev on it, leaving him the only one to worry about the outcome if Nick handled it badly.

“Dad, we talked about this.” Yev said in a breathless voice.

Mickey rounded on him, making Nick take a step forward. His eyes moved to Nick, looking like he was ready to buck up if he got too close to Yev. That only added to his pissed off mood.

“You wanna act like a dog and mark your territory,” he paused and palmed his gun, making everyone take a step back. “I have no problem putting you down like a dog.”

“Mickey,” Ian started but it didn’t even grab his attention for half a second. 

“Make a move Nick,” Mickey challenged, fully aware of Yev getting upset beside them. “Give me another reason to hate you.”

“Dad, please don’t. It’s not his fault.” 

Mickey didn’t look over until Nick took a step back, hands out in front of him. He put his gun away and turned to Yev. “No, it’s not his damn fault, you’re the one to told him and didn’t say shit to us.”

“I told him after he found out.” Yev hissed back. “Ian called my phone and he saw the name. What, was I supposed to lie to his face about it?”

“Yes!” Mickey hissed and shot a glare at Nick. “What if he would have called the fucking cops or told someone and we would all be fucked!”

Until Ian pulled him back with one arm locked around his chest, Mickey realized he and Yev were face to face, squaring off to actually fight. Nick had a similar hold on Yev who looked just as pissed as he was. 

The Milkovich blood line was explosive.

“He wouldn’t fuckin do that to me!” Yev yelled back, trying to push Nick away. “He fucking loves me, why is that so hard to believe.”

“Mickey, please stop.” Ian begged softly but kept a strong grip on him. 

Mickey ignored Ian and the pain that skyrocketed in his chest. “Because I’ve seen how he treats the people he fucking cares about! Ask his wife how she feels about the way he treated her!”

That was what caused it all to fall to pieces. Yev pushed forward like he was about to clock him in the face and if not for Nick’s hold on him, he would have. Mickey even moved forward, getting into Yev’s face right back but Ian chose then to use every single muscle he had to keep them apart. 

“Let me the fuck go!” Mickey yelled at Ian and tried to shove him off to get away. 

“Yevy, please.”

Mickey glared as Nick pulled Yev away from them and put him against a wall, both hands pinned to his sides. It was both a very sexual position and a potentially aggressive one, both didn’t sit well with him.

“Ian, let me go!” Mickey yelled again, working as hard as he could to get away from Ian so he could get Nick away from Yev.

“No, he’s not hurting him, and you know it.” Ian snapped and pulled him further away. “Just calm down and listen.”

The only calming down he could manage, was taking a deep breath and in that short amount of time, he could hear Nick speaking to Yev in Spanish. The words were soft, not angry or heated. He paused again, not struggling so much to see that Yev was no longer pinned against the wall. Nick held his face as he spoke and Yev was holding onto his sides, eyes closed as he listened.

Whatever Nick was saying, even if Yev had no idea what he was saying, Mickey watched as it calmed Yev down quickly. 

“Now you need to calm down.”

Ian spoke against his ear and Mickey felt their bodies lined up from head to toe, with Ian’s chest against his back. He took a deep breath, then another, and another as Ian placed kiss after soft kiss on his ear, then his neck. Calming him down, just as Nick did for Yev.

They had been too close to actually fighting. Not just words, but fists. Yev was ready to swing on him for what he said about Nick. But even as mad as he was, he would never swing on Yev, never. 

“Mickey?”

Mickey tore his eyes away from them to glance back at Ian. He didn’t look mad, but a little sad. Because of him. “I didn’t want to find out this way.” Ian nodded, looking guilty. Mickey turned to face him. “But I’m the one who told you to wait.”

Ian smiled.

“I’m sorry.” Mickey whispered and knocked their heads together. “I’m really sorry Ian.”

“It’s okay, just forget it.” He smiled when Mickey shook his head, unhappy with that answer. “Wanna make it up to me?”

Mickey nodded. 

“Do it by not killing anyone right now.” He nodded to Yev and Nick. “Think you can manage?”

Truthfully, Mickey had no idea if he could keep that promise or not. If he said yes right now, and Nick did something to piss him off, that’s a promise broken. That’s the last thing he wanted was broken promises between them. 

“I can try,” Mickey spoke softly and slid his fingertips under Ian’s shirt, barely touching his skin. “But if he starts actin like a prick, I have no control over it.”

Ian chuckled. “Just remember, no one told him outright. We didn’t go behind your back. But it happened and now he knows.”

“Yeah, and that’s what I’m afraid of.” Mickey glanced over to see them hugging and he could barely see Yev’s eyes over Nick’s shoulder. “Too many people know, and it fucking scares me.”

When Ian put a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to rest against his chest, Mickey didn’t fight it. He moved into the safety of Ian’s arm and felt his heart beat steadily under his ear, that calming sound. A sound that had calmed him from the very beginning. 

“Baby,” Ian spoke so low that only Mickey would hear it, “the man he loves is involved in this. Yev, risked everything for this. Do you really think that Nick would jeopardize his life like that?”

Mickey shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “No, I don’t think he would.” He felt Ian relax and kiss the side of his head. “But the more people know, the harder it is to keep you safe.”

Ian smiled and moved until their heads rested together again. “I have no doubts that you can keep me safe Mickey. None. I’ve already seen how far you’re willing to go for me and it’s more than anyone else in my entire life has done.”

“I’d do anything for you Ian.” Mickey could feel their eyes on him, yet he didn’t shrink away, or pull back from that soft energy they created between them. “But I’m still me, and I’ll fight for what is mine, and you are mine.”

It sounded possessive because it was. It wasn’t about control; it wasn’t about power. It was about love, true love. Deep inside your heart love. Mickey wanted all of Ian, and Ian wanted all of Mickey. Even the bad stuff. The pain and the failures. Love was accepting that person as they are, not as who you mold them to be. 

The moment Ian kissed him; Mickey knew he felt it too. They didn’t need words to communicate because they were two halves of the same heart. What happened to one, happened to the other. The bond that linked them together, was unbreakable.

“Never forget that Mickey,” Ian smiled when he pulled back. “As long as you never forget that, we are gonna be okay.”

“Better get this over with then, so we can get back to what we started.” Mickey winked just to see Ian blush. He pulled away, but kept his fingers loosely linked with Ian’s and turned to see Yev and Nick standing together, looking a little calmer. 

“I’m sorry you found out that way.” Yev started and tried to keep his voice from rising. “But he needed to know.”

Mickey glanced at Nick, who held his gaze for a little bit before he looked away. “Did he tell you all of it?” 

Nick nodded. 

Mickey wanted to hear him say it. “Tell me what he told you.”

“He told me that Ian was dead, but not gone. He said he didn’t know why it happened but he’s happy it did.”

Mickey could see Ian smiling even from behind him. “And?”

“And, that you two were connected somehow, which makes sense with the way you acted during the beginning of this case.” 

Ian squeezed his hand, reminding him not to jump ahead on the small shit. “What else?” he glanced at Yev, but he was looking at Nick with that overly fond look. The same look he gave Ian. 

Nick took a breath and held his hand out for Yev. “He told me about you falling in love with Ian, about how you almost died when he left.” He looked to Yev and got the smile he needed to keep going. “Then he told me about Ian fading, the soul swap and what he had to do.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, if you’re going to be apart of all this shit, then say it.” Nick’s eyes hardened and Mickey could feel that need to fight rise again.

“Deep breath baby.” Ian moved behind him, bracing him.

“Fine,” Nick narrowed his eyes. “Yev told me how he killed two people to make sure Ian could stay. He told me every single awful detail.”

Mickey stood his ground, waiting for the rest of the fallout because Nick wasn’t done. Even he didn’t know the specifics of what all Yev went through, but if having Nick around risked Ian, then he was going to make damn sure Nick was just as compromised as the rest of them. 

“I was there when he came home. I was the one who held him while he cried and couldn’t tell me why. I was the one who chose to keep my mouth shut, to not push him into telling me.”

Mickey went to take a step forward as Nick’s voice started to rise, but Ian had a firm grip on his hips. 

“As much as it hurt knowing he was lying, that he shut me out and wouldn’t tell me, I let him do it when he was ready because that’s what people who love each other do.”

The growl in his throat forced it’s way up before he had any hope to stop it. 

“I’ve been with him through all of it Mickey, even without knowing what it was, I was there for him. I will always be there.” 

“Good.” Mickey swallowed the majority of the anger he felt, just enough to try and work this out. “Now you’re in it too. So anything that happens to one of us, happens to all of us. You’re just as much at risk.”

Nick scuffed. “Trust me, I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Can we just not, please?” Yev spoke up and stepped between them. “Everyone needs to snap the fuck out of it and try to figure out what we do now.”

They broke apart, Mickey let Ian drag him to one side of the couch while Nick let Yev do the same, but on the other side of the couch. Maybe be was greedy because Mickey wanted Yev on his side, not Nick’s. 

“So, I read up on all the stuff about soul swapping and Yev told me in detail what’s been happening with him and Ian.” 

Mickey and Ian groaned at the same time. Great, now Nick knew of their weird sexual shit with Yev. In detail. He could have done without that, but it seemed as if Nick mentioned that for a reason.

“Okay, and?” Mickey snapped, less angry than he was but not as calm as he knew Ian wanted. 

“And,” Nick glared but continued. “Instead of thinking of Ian as just a ghost or a spirit that was trapped here, think more like Ian is haunting Mickey.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose high and he felt Ian cringe behind him. “Haunting me?”

Nick nodded. “Yes, he attached himself to you because you were there for all of it. From the beginning, even before me.”

Mickey did not want to point out that the reason he arrived at Ian’s crime scene first, was because Nick was too busy meeting his side piece, that happened to be his son. It would only piss him off more and right now, they needed answers. 

“Okay, now there have been countless accounts of people trying to get rid of ghosts or spirits, through a cleansing or exorcism, but no one has actually wanted one to stay before.”

Ian nodded. “I guess I never thought of it like that before.”

Nick smiled. “But now, since this soul swap, you Ian, are linked to both Mickey and Yev. I don’t think we will ever know how it worked exactly, but most things like this, supernatural things are linked by blood.”

Mickey gave a glance back at Ian who seemed to give Nick his full attention. “And this helps how?”

“After Yev told me, after I had a chance to sort it out and all that,” he leaned over to kiss Yev’s cheek, “I remember something I heard when I was little. My great grandmother would tell me stories about magic, about ghosts, mostly because I thought I had one in my closet.”

Mickey snorted a laugh before he could help himself and it made everyone smile. Which only caused the laugh to die and he was right back to irritated again. 

Nick stopped smiling when Mickey glared. “She would tell me stories of why people that died would haunt their family members. She said they since they were linked by blood, that there was a chance that they could be brought back by blood.”

Mickey shook his head. “This sounds like a crock of shit Nick.” Ian huffed behind him. “What? Don’t tell me you actually believe this.”

Ian shrugged which made Nick and Yev smile. “I may or may not believe, but it’s something we haven’t heard before and if he has something that might work, it’s worth a try.”

“Thank you Ian.” Yev smiled and bumped Nick with his shoulder. 

Rolling his eyes, Mickey decided that this shit was ridiculous and if Ian and Yev wanted to listen to Nick’s great grandmother, who was probably no longer alive anymore, then fine. They could. But he wouldn’t put any stock into that shit unless there was proof. 

“Before her family really got into the whole religious angle, she believed that magic was real. Not like card tricks or making shit levitate, but the things that can’t be explained, she would call it magic. Kinda like this. We can’t explain it, but it’s happening.”

Mickey kept listening but turned his head into Ian’s chest, half hiding in his shirt. Ian chuckled and kissed the top of his head before wrapping both arms around him.

“One of the things she spoke about a lot, was the power of blood magic. Using blood to link people together, or to unlink people. I don’t think she meant specifically ghosts who become human again, like Ian, but the rule applies.”

“How?” Ian asked, still rubbing his hands up and down Mickey’s back. 

“Well, it can’t be a coincidence that you are linked to both Yev and Mickey. Even before the soul swap, Yev said you two connected a few times?” Nick questioned, looking back and forth.

Ian and Yev nodded. 

Mickey turned a little, this part actually made sense. Not that blood shit.

“Yeah, we did. A few times actually.” Ian spoke up, sharing a smile with Yev. “The first time it happened, was when Mickey had his heart attack. Our connection broke for awhile,” he paused to kiss Mickey’s cheek when he buried his face into his chest. “And I couldn’t be seen by anyone or heard. But something happened and I connected with Yev long enough for him to find Mickey.”

Nick smiled. “Well, I’m happy it worked. You linked with both of them Ian, maybe it’s a coincidence, or maybe it’s because they are linked together by blood.”

“But I connected with Lip too, my brother.” Ian added before they got off topic. “And he’s not linked to them.”

Nick shook his head. “No, but he is to you, again, by blood. What I’m trying to get at, is linking you to yourself, so your future or spirit won’t need anything to hold you to, but yourself.”

Mickey wasn’t sure what to believe, but Ian sounded as worried as he was excited. Was Nick giving him too much hope? “Look, before you make us all hope for this shit to work, how about you tell us how it’s supposed to go.”

“Dad.” Yev groaned, putting his head in his hands.

“No Yev, we don’t need false hope on top of all the other shit we need to deal with.” Mickey sat up but held onto Ian’s arms and linked them around his waist. “Do you have a plan to make this happen?”

Nick nodded. “It may seem a little witchy, but I think it’ll work.” He sighed when Mickey rolled his eyes. “First things first, we need to get rid of Ian’s body.”

When Ian tightened his arms around his body, Mickey wanted to punch Nick in the face. So Ian was back, but that didn’t take away the fact that he really did die. The body subject, along with certain key words like dead, murdered, body; all that shit they tried to avoid saying. He glared at Nick who seemed to realize what had happened.

“Ian, I am sorry,” he held his hands up. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, but I want to put this as simply as possible.”

Ian smiled. “Thanks Nick, but it’s okay. Just say what you need to.” 

Mickey relaxed a little at Ian’s words but still gave Nick hard eyes.

“Relax love, don’t get too worked up.”

Ian’s words, although sweet and innocent sounding, made something hot spark in his body. Mickey pushed back a little as he lightly dug his nails into Ian’s arms. “I like getting worked up.” Mickey whispered and felt Ian’s breath hitch.

“Asshole, now is not the time.” Ian groaned and had to adjust their position, so Mickey’s ass wasn’t against his groin. “Later.”

Turning his head, Mickey smiled. “Promise?”

Ian grinned and bent down to kiss his lips. “Only if you’re good.”

Forgetting that Yev and Nick were probably listening, Mickey moved one arm up to bring Ian’s mouth down to his. “What if I want to be bad? Hmm?”

“Dad, pleeease…” Yev groaned and sagged against Nick as Ian’s current desires flared up like fire. 

“Fuck,” Mickey hissed and released Ian, who was trying not to pant into his ear. “Just keep fucking talking then.”

“Yes, moving on.” Nick rubbed the back of Yev’s neck before he stood up and moved away from them. “Since Ian can’t return to his body, it’s best we…handle it, before we try this. The last thing we want is for Ian to get trapped in there.”

Ian narrowed his eyes, his breath still a little labored as he spoke. “Trapped how?”

“When people die, or when they used to back in the day, the family would open windows to make sure the soul, or spirit didn’t get trapped. I can’t imagine Ian being alive inside a body that would never move again. He would rot, then get buried or cremated and that would be….” He trailed off at the way they paled.

“Oh God,” Ian shuddered. “Yes, let’s get rid of that, like as soon as possible.”

Mickey nodded, just in case this was real or that it might work, he didn’t want to risk it. “Maybe that’s where Lip comes in,” he glanced back at Ian. “He would be able to make the decision to cremate you.”

“Before he agrees to do that, we are gonna need to explain shit to him.” Ian shook his head. “We haven’t told him anything.”

“We can talk to him about it tomorrow?” Mickey offered just as Yev set back down beside Nick, half empty beer in hand. “Okay, so we deal with that tomorrow. What’s next?”

The way Nick smirked at him made him want to hit him, again. That smug look because the asshole finally got him to participate in this weird fucking talk. Ian must have noticed because a kiss was placed just under his ear. That kiss made Nick’s smug smile worth it. 

“Next, we need something to link Ian to, not a person, but an object. Something he can keep on him all the time to ground him.”

“So just a random object?” Mickey asked.

Nick shook his head. “It would need significant meaning. But also something that would appear normal to anyone else. Like a ring or necklace maybe, something you could have on you all the time.”

“Your dog tags.” Mickey spoke up. “Something meaningful and inconspicuous.”

Ian smiled. “I could get used to wearing that everyday. But what would you do with them?”

“Well, I said blood magic for a reason.” Nick warned, looking to Mickey.

Mickey shifted again; this is the part he didn’t believe. 

“You take blood from the people you’re linked to, so Yev, Mickey and your brother Lip. Then you take your own blood, mix it together, linking all of you, then pour it on the necklace. Let it soak into it, binding you to that object.”

“Shit, that’s kinda heavy.” Ian gripped Mickey tighter. “And it’ll work? Yev and I won’t have this sexual issue anymore?”

The entire room felt uncomfortable at the same time. Sharing an urgency for this to work.

“I don’t believe you’ll have that issue anymore. And from what I read from the research, you aren’t fully back yet, and I think this will help with that too.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. “But he is back all the way. He does it all. Eats, sleeps, interacts with people, fucks,” the entire room groaned, and he rolled his eyes. “How is he not back?”

“He’s right Mick,” Ian blurted before Nick could answer. “That shit at my apartment with Lip, him not being able to see me, even when I was back.”

Mickey nodded. “I guess glitching in and out could be a problem.” He looked back at Nick. “And you’re sure this will work?”

“No, I’m not. But my great grandmother showed me the proof that it has worked before. She linked someone to this world, that left a long time ago.”

“She a witch or something?” Mickey huffed and received more than a few glares in return. “What, so ghosts are real but not witches?”

Nick groaned. “No, she’s not a witch Mick, but she did dabble in hoodoo before she met my grandfather. She did spells for protection, health, peace. But also ones a little darker. Look, do I really have to share all that? I think this is worth a try.”

“No,” Yev spoke up. “You don’t have to tell the entire story because it would take all damn night and it is worth a try.”

Nick smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips. “Thank you carino.”

Mickey moved before he could think about it, but Ian still had a firm hold. “Cut that shit out, wait until I don’t have to sit and watch.”

Nick huffed. “So, Ian,” he bypassed Mickey and looked to Ian. “Do you want to give this a try?”

Ian nodded. “It’s a better suggestion then we had, which was nothing. And we don’t have anything to lose if it doesn’t work.”

Mickey turned until he could face Ian. “I’m only doing this if you really want to Ian. Not because Captain America here thinks it’ll work.” Nick huffed again and Mickey just flipped him off, making Ian smile. “Your choice red. Just say the word and we can do it.”

“We have to try everything and anything we can to end whatever the hell this thing is with Yev.” He leaned forward until their noses touched. “Then we can do anything we want, without thinking about why we shouldn’t.”

Mickey groaned, his entire body responding to his vague, but totally obvious suggestion. “As soon as it’s over, as soon as it works,” his hands moved up Ian’s thighs slowly, squeezing until he gasped. “You’re mine.”

Ian nodded. “All yours baby.”

Now that it was Ian’s decision, Mickey kissed him softly and turned back to rest against his chest. Nick and Yev were looking at him like they’d never seen him before. Eyes wide, mouth open a little bit.

“What?” He barked and Ian laughed.

“Nothing,” Nick glanced at Yev whose look was similar to his own. “I just didn’t know you were so….soft.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot right up as he leaned forward. “Fuck you, I’m not fucking soft.”

Ian smiled and pulled him back. “Mickey is only soft for me, right baby?” 

Keeping Nick’s attention, he slowly nodded. “When he means only for him, he means ONLY for him. That doesn’t mean I can’t still beat your ass if you call me soft again.”

Nick held his hands up, both him and Yev trying not to smile. “Anything you say Mick.” He cleared his throat and a laugh bubbled out, which he forced down instantly. “Okay, so Ian says we are doing this then. Take some time and explain it to your brother because the first step is your body.”

Ian leaned back against the couch, feeling very tired. “Yes, tomorrow I will talk to him. We will talk to him.”

Nick stood and held his hand out for Yev, pulled him up and slung an arm around him. “Good. When you figure it out, call me and we can deal with the rest.”

Mickey stood, making room for Ian as they all moved to the door. The whole time, he kept glancing at Yev, wondering if he was going to stay, or go home with Nick. He wouldn’t ask, and he wouldn’t beg him to stay, but he really hoped that he did.

“Get home safe, okay?” Yev smiled and let Nick scoop him up in his arms. 

Mickey let out a deep breath and Ian leaned against his side.

“I will Yevy,” Nick lifted him up, squeezing him tight. “I love you.”

Yev didn’t hesitate. “Love you too Nicky.”

As much as he tried not to watch them, he couldn’t look away. Mickey hated it, but couldn’t deny how sweet it was, how soft and familiar it felt. They were far off from family dinners, if tonight was anything to go by, but maybe it was a step in the right direction.

“Night Ian,” Nick smiled, then looked to Mickey. “Mick.”

“Night Nick, I’ll make sure to call you.” Ian lightly nudged Mickey, then got a huff in return.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’ll deal with this shit tomorrow.” That was as good as it was going to get, and Nick knew it. He smiled, more like a fraction of his normal smile, kissed Yev quickly and he was gone.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I think we are taking a step in the right direction.” Ian grinned when Yev smiled at him, then moved away from Mickey to pull him into a hug. “Thank you.”

Yev smiled and hugged him back. “Thanks for listening. I’m beat, gonna head to bed.”

Mickey nodded and locked the doors. “You need to go to school tomorrow.” He held his hand up when Yev went to argue. “Nope, I already got a call about too many missed days. We are gonna be busy with Lip tomorrow, so you’re going.”

Yev huffed but nodded. “Yeah, alright. See you guys tomorrow.”

Before Yev left, Mickey pulled him in and hugged him. Yev sank into him, and Mickey could feel how tired he was. “Get some sleep, okay?” Yev nodded and Mickey kissed his shoulder. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Yev moved down the hall but stopped before he went into his room. “Hey dad?”

Mickey turned around. “Yeah?”

“Thanks, ya know, for trying.”

Half the anger he felt about this whole thing, seemed to melt away when Yev thanked him just for trying. Yev knew they would probably never get to that friendly boyfriend stage but seemed to think trying was still amazing. It made him want to try harder. 

“You’re welcome Yev,” he smiled when Yev smiled. “Get some sleep.”

The door shut and he let out a deep breath and moved back to where Ian stood in the living room. He had that knowing smile, like he always did, and Mickey went right to him just as Ian’s arms opened, and let Ian hold him. 

“You did so good baby.” Ian kissed the side of his head. “Yev knows, Nick too.”

Mickey buried his face in Ian’s chest like he was trying to run from this conversation. “I’m only trying for you and Yev. Not for Nick, not for me.”

“We all know that too.” Ian pulled him back and stroked his face lovingly. “Do you need to head into work, or are you home for tonight?” 

“Well no one has called me since I left, so I guess I’m home for the night.” Mickey tipped his head up until their noses brushed together, their lips only an inch apart. “I really wish we could use it to our advantage.”

Ian closed his eyes as he pushed their heads together. “Me too baby, me too.”

“What are we supposed to do, sleep?” Mickey grinned when Ian shook his head quickly. “Maybe watch a movie?”

Ian shook his head again and started moving forward, making him shuffle back. “I am going to get you naked,” Mickey groaned. “Then you’re going to get me naked.” He groaned louder. “Then we are going to rub up against each other, getting nice and wet and slippery.”

Mickey let his hand slide down to Ian’s groin as he moaned, barely brushing his fingertips over him. “If only you were talking about sex instead of a bath.” Ian smiled. “Hot, wet, messy, all consuming sex.”

“Maybe if this goes the right way, we can do exactly that baby.” Ian promised and moved away, leading Mickey down the hall and towards the bathroom. 

“When this is over, we are going to go on vacation where one can interrupt us.” Mickey grinned when Ian got that overly excited look in his eyes. They stopped at the bathroom door and he pushed Ian against it. “Just you and me, in a big ass bed, wearing only those dog tags.”

“Promise?” Ian asked as he quickly unbuttoned Mickey’s shirt.

“Promise baby.”

**

(Fiona’s POV)

This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Her own personal hell maybe. After years of lies, of stealing and unspeakable acts needed to survive, maybe this was her punishment. 

Her brother was dead. Not missing. Not a runaway, not mad at her and joined the army again. But dead. As in he was never coming back. Never again would she see that goofy smile. Or hear his annoyed tone when she worried about him all the time. There would be no more family dinners, or holidays, no vacations and every day would feel like hell.

Just like it did right now. 

On top of all that horror, the man she loved was partially responsible. Steve, or Jimmy, helped his parents dispose of Ian’s body. And she saw it, all of it. Every gruesome, awful detail was laid out on the other side of her bed, showing her what some people were capable of. 

It didn’t much to get the information. The only thing she had to do was wait until the evidence board was clear of Mickey and she was home free. Making copies upon copies of pictures, files and reports. Some of which she didn’t understand. Most of which didn’t matter.

She knew what Jimmy had done. What his parents put Ian through. It was awful. Horrid. It was wrong. And now they were dead. Now Ian couldn’t get the justice he deserved.

Even with all that bad shit, there was more. 

Fiona glanced at the test again. It may have been the millionth time she looked, and the answer was still the same. Test after test, brand upon expensive brand and there was only one answer. 

Positive.

She was pregnant, with Steve's baby. No, with Jimmy’s baby.


End file.
